|A bumblebee visits the anemones in my front yard.|
If there is one thing Nature excels at, it is keeping tempo. Maintaining a rhythm. A steady and predictable beat. The tides, the phases of the moon, the whispers of wind, the cycles of night into day all maintain an ebb and flow that we can count on.
Furthermore, the tempo is sustainable. Nature knows when to exert energy and when to hold off, so that its efforts are efficient.
|This bumble bee is beginning the afternoon's forage so his pollen buckets are still empty|
Another example so evident in late summer are the bumblebees. This time of year they are almost manic in their search for nectar. "Busy as bees," you might say. Their hips are so laden with pollen I don't know how they can stay airborne and yet they continue darting from bloom to bloom, as if they will never find another one.
Until the temperature drops. Then they are paralyzed in time, as if some invisible force has pressed them in place. I find them on these cool, late summer mornings still perched on a flower petal, but motionless.
|This anemone bud has opened just enough to allow room for a bee to poke inside.|
Now it is as if a giant hand has landed on my shoulder and forced me to the sofa where I lay while my hip heals. With my shadow, Maxi, constantly at my side, I try to avoid thinking of what I should be doing.
Because I can't.