Azaleas have to be one of the best things about spring.

Except for cherry blossoms.

And dogwoods.

And — well — name your favorite flower.


Flowers are so extravagant in their beauty, delicate petals framed in a sunny halo

or dotted with raindrops

or bouncing happily in the breeze —

not devoting some time to admiring such a gift seems highly ungrateful.

There would be little future for flowers, though, if not for the bees that busily make their way from one to the next like fertility specialists, spreading pollen and assisting plants in doing their reproductive thing.

Amazing how it all works together,

earth and air,

rain and sun,

flimsy-winged insects,

the profligate blossoms,

the sensory feast,

psalms without words.

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