A single wanderer creeps from a hollow to the wild purple bloom, the yellow cluster, to fall asleep, pollen-drunk in what I like to imagine as a kind of ecstasy. But I don’t know how long he has been at it, looking for the others, reading the air for the compass dance to bring him home.
I like the tag “against forgetting.” Have you started that Bridle book yet? He has a cool section on the bee dance.
Thanks, Bill. This phrase has stayed in my head as a useful touchstone, ever since I came across a poetry anthology (poetry of witness edited by Carolyn Forché) titled “Against Forgetting.” And, yes to the Bridle book! I read most of it the week before last and then got into other things, but I did read the bee dance section, and I think its been wiggling around inside me ever since. Thanks, Bill! Wishing you an excellent day : )
Nice. That phrase has some elasticity for sure.
This photo is lovely, Stacey, but your words are still lovelier. I watched a small bee this morning; it was sitting on the outside of my kitchen window will, looking exhausted (if you can imagine what an exhausted bee looks like!) He sat there for ages, and I wondered if he had lost his way and became separated from the other bees in the hive. Perhaps because it was one of the first really mild days (15C) we’ve had this spring, he came out too early and couldn’t find his way back. I was pleased to see, a little later, that he had flown off; hopefully, it “read the air for the compass dance,” in your words, and flew off in the right direction. I do hope so. X 🌷
Thank you for this, Ellie!
Love the term “pollen-drunk”. Didn’t realize that was a thing.
Thank you, Bartholomew!
An exquisite moment. And an exquisite attention to it and the life before you.
Thank you, Stacey.
Thank you, Richard. Wishing joy to you!