Bumblebee Blues: Sip and Gulp

So I'm watching out the kitchen window, where I can see this crepe myrtle bush (or is it a tree? What the hell is a crepe myrtle, anyway?  Sounds like it could be someones grandmother) and it finally dawns on me that it is bigger than it was back in the beginning of spring.  Which is probably not unusual, considering that it is a green, growing thing, and by their inherent nature they tend to grow.  And be green. In this case, what piqued my interest, what got all up in my grille as it were, was that it seemed a lot bigger.  Really.  Considering that I had cropped it back, given it the arborist's equivalent of a flattop fade, I was expecting that there bush to behave itself this summer.  So I wouldn't have to cut it back again.  Well, fuggedaboutit, paisanos, it looks like Gumbo the Gardener will have to engage in some more horticultural ass-whoopin' to get things under control.

So it is that I take on the natural world.  To be fair, the crepe myrtle doesn't bother me that much.  It has grown fast since I cut it back, but it also has a burgeoned with a thick layer of flowers on the branches.  Deep magenta or crimson, I don't know, but there are a lot of them.  As a consequence of all this floral exuberance there have been a plethora of bees flitting about on the bush.  There may have been a hummingbird, too, but I cannot confirm it.  But a hummingbird would be cool.

It was while watching the birds and the bees do their dance (no, sillies, not that dance), on a hot, sunny afternoon that I was granted an insight.  A brief glimpse of the inner workings of life.  The bees were lazily circling about, landing now and them to ravish their chosen dance partners, seeking pollen and being profligate with their affections.  I took to meditating on those bees, wondering if I had been doing the same thing with my life: sipping lightly from so many things and never really staying put with my emotions.  Never taking a break and drinking the nectar of life.  Never grabbing the cup with both hands and just sucking down a few huge gulps, for the sheer sake of knowing I could, and thereby drink deep.  The bees, whether they knew it or not, had just taught me a lesson about gusto.

From small creatures do great lessons flow.  I watched the bees sip from the flowers and considered that maybe, just maybe, I was ready to fill my belly with a few swigs of Life.  Forget finesse, forget being too delicate, too scared of it, I realized it is high time I grab a cup and drink my fill.

It really is too short, ignore the cliche and absorb the truth.  Time to raise a toast to life.