The burgeoning trees serve to fatten the lazy bees that drift dreamily around the newly warmed back porch. Spring has arrived in all its vernal glory. Redbuds bloom about the encircling woods as do the forsythia. The sleepy dogwoods have only just begun but soon they too will join the rush to burgeon. I eagerly anticipate the pale greening of the long quiescent trees. Too long, have they been in hibernation. It is time now to rise up and rejoin the land of the living.

The woods warm with the rising temperatures, leaving the back porch warmed as well. Now is the time for the insects to awaken and explore. Newly roused these bees seem to study their environs as if for the first time. Buzzing about the porch, along with the fat bluebottles, they seem enthralled with any new contact or experience, no matter how incidental or insignificant. Such is the life of insects. Life is short; experience and understanding are shorter still.

The lack of consequence seems not to matter to these lesser beings. Perhaps there is a lesson in this for us: the larger, sentient beings, some inner, deeper call to abandon our more prosaic endeavors and seek something a little more life affirming; or perhaps it is only my drifting thoughts and musings on this glorious spring day.