September 14, 2011

My little friends

Bee, chive flowers.

ladybug, cilantro. 

ladybug larvae, green coriander.

dragonfly, perched.

A few years ago, I had a conversation with a woman, Mary, who had lived an admirable life full of hard work in wild country in far eastern Oregon. Her husband was a cowboy and she was cook for sheep camp for many years. When I spoke with her, she needed a walker, but still was very feisty, very wise. She taught me a simple lesson. 

She had a jam jar open on the kitchen table and it was attracting wasps. Worried and nervous, I asked her if she was worried and nervous. She just said they were her little friends and went on telling me stories about roughness — the tangled roots of wild asparagus and of hillside fires sparked from coals that had smoldered for months.

From then on, I've questioned the automatic and common fear I had for bees, spiders and other insects. I like to sit and watch them now.

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