Last year I wrote a diary (www.dailykos.com/...) about how wild critters don’t pay us any mind at all for the most part. Hope the link works; don’t know how to embed these things.
Yesterday I was resting my poor aching back after lots of lifting and yanking and bending and digging. I love gardening. No matter what level of anxiety I am experiencing, getting my hands dirty is a complete distraction, and a calming mechanism. I hardly notice the pain from exertion because of the counterbalance of soil and foliage and flowers.
I’m a regular lurker and occasional commenter to the Saturday Morning Gardening blog on DK. I’m mostly too intimidated by the lush gardens that are photographed and posted to feel I have much to add. Still, I love my own gardens, from early spring, through summer and late fall. They bloom from March through October/November, steadily buzzing with flies, bees, butterflies, and hummingbirds.
On this particular occasion, a couple of songs (ear worms, I guess) started wafting through my brain.
First, a piggyback to the Doxology: Praise plants from whom all blessings flow. Praise all the fungi here below. Praise pollinators heavenly host. Praise flowers, nuts, and fruit the most. Amen. Hope this is not too obscure for y’all.
Second, the song whose lyrics fit perfectly as is: You are so beautiful to me. Can’t you see? You’re everything I hope for. You’re everything I need. You are so beautiful to me.
But following all that came the recollection that flowers don’t bloom for our pleasure. Oh, no, not at all. They bloom to attract pollinators. Under ultraviolet light, many of them look like archery targets. Aim here, please, and you will be rewarded with sweet nectar. I, of course, will be rewarded with fertilization and the next generation.
Once more, I am nothing to them. They don’t care about me/us at all. But what pleasure we receive nevertheless. What a great planet we are blessed with.