Blossoms in the Cold

It has gotten cold lately. Shivery, goose-bumpy cold requiring, if not heating yet, at least blankets and warm jackets. But the more intrepid among us continue with business as usual. Bow, for one, is still going outside and staying out for long periods without complaint.

My new tenants moved into Orchard House last night. Their presence there will relieve me of the burden of having to heat the other house during the cold winter months. But I was surprised to see a pink rose still blooming on the front yard at Orchard House the day before, despite the bitter cold.

Of course, inside the blossom there was also an insect taking advantage. Where there are flowers, there  also are bugs.

In my pasture yesterday, I spotted a ladybug inside a thistle bloom. But the ladybug was green, as if with envy. Or maybe it was green from the cold, instead of being blue.

There was also a very busy bumblebee, seemingly covered with pollen, plying its trade despite the changing weather.

After all, if there are still flowers, why shouldn't the insects keep up with their usual business?

But surely all the flowers will fade soon, like these older thistle blooms that have gone to seed, and then what will the insects do?

Except that it's not really all that simple. Today, walking in the cold, cutting wind, wearing a jacket, I spotted brand new blossoms on a bare service berry tree.

Why would the tree choose to blossom at just such a time as this?

Isn't it a terrible waste of resources? Surely, there is not time enough before the first big freeze to grow any berries! I figured this must be an isolated fluke, until I saw the blossoms on the bare limbs of the first cherry tree in my orchard.

Just like the service berry, the first cherry tree has decided to bloom.

The branches are bare, the sky is grey, there is no sunlight or warmth, but still there are blossoms. And the first cherry tree is not alone in its error. The second cherry tree has sprouted a single open pink-centered blossom.

What is the world coming to?

Will we be picking cherries in November?

Even the lawn is sprouting new flowers that were not there a few days ago. And the honeysuckle seems ready with new buds just as the mature flowers are fading.

Everywhere I look, there are new flowers blooming, despite all the dying leaves.

With so much confusion about whether it is autumn or spring, it is not wonder that all the insects are still so active.

As I was taking my walk this afternoon, this spider was walking down the path, right ahead of me.

Sometimes nature gives us such mixed signals, assuring us of the hope of spring, when winter is right around the corner. Do not be deceived!

Foggy Morn

Today is a very foggy morning. There was so much fog that I could not even see the school bus as it picked up my daughter.

The neighbors' field was enveloped in white gauze.

When it is foggy, the spider webs stand out.

Yesterday, which was not a foggy day, I spotted a spider rolling up and wrapping a bee that had been caught in its web. The bee was still buzzing when I came upon this scene.

Then the bee stopped buzzing, and the spider stopped wrapping up the bee, but it did something to it with its mouth.

Was it the kiss of death?

After that, the spider went and sat back down in the center of the web to await a new bee. There were several bees buzzing nearby.

The spider made me think of this verse from a longer poem called "Assassin"  that I wrote decades ago and will be attributed to Marah Fallowfield in Our Lady of Kaifeng: Courtyard of the Happy Way:

Timing is definitely the thing. Yesterday, for a fleeting second, I came face to face with a deer in my front yard.

It was only the briefest glimpse, but it was so close. One moment later, and I might not have caught it on camera at all. That's timing. Timing also applies in the longer run, as we meet or fail to meet the right person.

 Bow is growing up, and that brings change -- new feelings, new longings. Yesterday, Bow watched a video of a female chimpanzee who is close to his age. She was playing with a water hose that she used to clean up her enclosure, but also to take a drink from. Bow watched with great interest, although he did not seem as excited as he had been watching Lady Gaga videos. He did not say anything afterwards, but I got the impression that he was more interested in the idea of  playing with a water hose than getting together with her.  In other words, he identified with her, but did not see her as an object of adulation.

Should we adore a mate? Or should we see them as a person? Or can we do both? It's a question I address in some of my novels.

A Sampling of my books

Bow did not ask to meet that female chimp. I wonder what would happen if they did meet.