like the buzzing of helicopters

A bumblebee, fat as my thumb drones above me, buried in the locust tree blossom.  The birds contest their rights, vividly, as the squirrel comes  close on the overhanging branch, leaps to the roof, & maneuvers his way to the fuchsia which he tries to eat.  A crow, sharp, apt, caws.  At this point another bee decides to investigate me.

It will be warm day.  I put nearly everything into pots this year.

The pot out back, above, the pot out front, below:

This is the sage with bees you can’t see:

I read recently there is a chemical released when working with soil that wards off depression, so much so that one is compelled subconsciously to garden.

I wonder what weeding does for the mind?

2 thoughts on “like the buzzing of helicopters

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.