I spent a good twenty minutes kneeling under this tree, taking pictures of the flowers and their bees, the bees and their flowers. At some point, I stopped looking through the viewfinder and just started going at it, taking picture after picture after picture, the bees buzzing and humming just over and around and beyond my head. It may be just about time to try that approach with the rest of my life.
Then again, things were pretty good when I started looking again, too.
This year, this was my birthday morning view (strangely textured by my bedroom window), just before heading off to class.
More importantly: every single year, I am more and more grateful to and for my parents.
This one goes out to my ROCK STAR FRIEND.
Suddenly this afternoon, where I hadn't even seen buds, there were blossoms.
Finally at least one thing that I've needed to take care of has gotten off the ground, albeit with embarrassing tardiness. I find myself less and less able to stay on top of everything I'm supposed to be doing, and I'm doing my best to chalk this phenomenon up to fatigue rather than to something like character flaw. But it's startling how thick and fast the accusatory inner voices come, even after all these years: if you weren't so lazy, or distracted, or out of your own control, you'd already have all of those papers marked and returned. &c. It's not so pleasant.
(This red-winged blackbird at the environmental center made me wish for a longer zoom lens and more shots per second--at least one of which I might be able to score, if I'm careful.)