So I like flowers now, quite a bit. I’m not quite sure when this happened. I think the realization started when I got my mom a bouquet from the Farmer’s Market for Mother’s Day (she was lucky, I almost blew all my money on an ostrich egg). At the rehearsal dinner for the Clark wedding, I went a step further in swooning over the table bouquets and getting to take one home with me. This, combined with Maria’s reference to some scientific hoo-hah about flowers making people happy, has made me a little more noticing of the bright little bundles.

It is strange, because I used to think nothing of flowers, and even looked down on the idea of them as a gift. “What a waste of money!” I would think, “they will shrivel in a week, and you can’t even eat them.”

But here I am today, trotting home from the Farmer’s Market not with tasty cooking ingredients or even another bottle of local honey, but with a little bouquet of flowers, all for myself.

I’m not sure if this was a sudden change, or if it was like a change of palate, something that happened slowly over time and I just didn’t notice because I didn’t give it a try during the process. Maybe these flowers are just a nice change from funeral roses.

Anyway, when I approached my apartment complex on the walk home, a bee discovered my flowers. I sat down on the curb for a long while watching him buzz around and gather up pollen on his hind legs. It was very cool. I do not know what kind of bee it was, but it had white stripes and a green jacket.

Ever time I thought he’d flown off, I would get up and walk a few paces, and he returned. He did this several times. I am wondering if he thought it was a new patch of flowers every time?

Flowers and bees are cool