The pear tree is in bloom, and I am like a bee caught in it's intoxicating web.
It always blooms early, usually to it's own detriment. However, this year has been warm and the pollinators are out in droves! So I have a hope of pears for the first time!
I visit her every day. Drinking in the weight of her nectar. Her garments are dipped in honey and laced with sugar.
The bees and butterflies dance a cadence that woos me deeper into her sacred speech. Whispered blessings that only my heart understands.
"If an [pear] blossom or a ripe [pear] could tell its own story, it would be, still more than its own, the story of the sunshine that smiled upon it, of the winds that whispered to it, of the birds that sang around it, of the storms that visited it, and of the motherly tree that held it and fed it until its petals were unfolded and its form developed." Lucy Larcom
What are you seeing
through your lens
Have a wonder-filled day!
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