Transitions

I awoke this morning to temperatures in the 40's -- upper 40's yes, but still there was a hint of summer losing its grip.

Where once there were millions of bachelor buttons slowly unfurling in pinkish purple plumes, now the fresh blooms have dwindled and spent blooms bring a deepening brown shade to the meadow. So have most of the daisies given up their petals.

The black-eyed susans linger, their petals tinged in a tired white; the goldenrod is coming on strong and the Queen Anne's Lace is everywhere.

Summer has matured -- too soon for me but the bees are unfazed. I walked slowly through the meadow to see what they were up to. Bachelor Buttons were still the flower of choice. Good to the last drop, I guess.

I've never really paid so much attention to the plant life in the meadow. I have a lot to learn about what blooms when and what the bees like and what they don't. It seems they are no longer interested in the Queen Anne's Lace. Too bad -- we have plenty. I hear they really like goldenrod so we should be in good shape for the rest of the summer.

This morning I took a picture of a bee on a Bachelor Button -- nothing special and yet it seemed so special to me. The flower was tucked under the meadow canopy, hidden from everything but the honey bee and the dappled sunlight. It was in its final show of beauty as evidenced by its loosening petals. So too was the visiting bee an aging forager as evidenced by her tattered wings.

Two ordinary living things -- and a third -- unnoticed except by each other and the dappled sunlight -- a sacrifice to something sacred.