Pollinators aren’t only honey bees. Yes, we need to save the bees. But also these little flyers.

Can you spot them?

I don’t know their name. Nor do I immediately recall if this is quinoa or amaranth, only that it as an impulse grain purchase months ago now.

Months.

A few more months and perhaps my life will shift again. Stories told are being retold and adjusted. Unfolding as they are unearthed. And as such, perhaps the solid harvest shown, that recently appeared to be unraveling, may have been sown in cover crop and sold as orchard.

And perhaps, after these next few months, I’ll find my way away from mixed metaphors. Until then, I’ll dig into reality as often as I can, gulp from sweet sweet iced water in a jar reminiscent of pasta night years hence, and breathe.