Tuesday, March 1, 2011

Fly, Shoot, Bee - The Winged Ones, the Green Ones

A few days ago, I saw a fly, the first fly of 2011. Calendarly speaking we're still in Winter's arms, yet this fly, a preteen in size, landed on my finger as I soaked up sun. My insides flinched with an "eeeewwweee"followed closely by a smile as I said, "Hi, Fly." For a second its multi-faceted eyes checked me out. Could it trust my welcoming its presence? Then just as quickly as it arrived it flew away and I continued to smile. Fly. What a beautifully named creature.

Last week my friend Maia wrote excitedly that a friend had loaned her a camera for "shooting" footage. I happily responded and reveled in the image of her not only filming but creatively reclaiming the word shoot in these times when so many references to shooting are increasingly associated with guns. I pressed 'Send' and thought no more of it until outside.

Just after my encounter with the fly, I looked down from the deck and noticed shoots, shoots of green, Mother Earth's offspring, rising from the soil. Shoots of green grace my lawn all year. Shoots of green fill gardens in Spring; shoots of green many bursting in color creatively reframe and reclaim shoot!

Marveling over the shoots topped with crocus, I wandered one area of the yard until I noticed one little cup held a bee. A mason bee climbed about in the purple pool. I ran inside to get my camera knowing I might loose the moment and returned to find I was right. I snapped a photo anyway then walked over to the lenten roses. The lenten rose often hangs its head so I snapped photos with my camera on the ground the lens looking skyward trying to catch the earth-gazing faces of these delicate flowers. The camera snapped and I heard buzzing. Had the bee crossed the yard ahead of me? I listened more closely and heard a little buzzing symphony. A dozen bees dipped into and out of the downward hanging rose faces.

I was a Mother! I rushed to the mason bee hive hung on the side of the house last Fall. The holes once plugged with mud were now open. The children born had left home and were buzzing all about the lenten roses as I tried to get them on camera. I felt like my mother as she tried to make my siblings and me sit still for childhood photos. We, as my bees, always had other more important things to do. And my mother, like me, only wanted to capture a memory.

I was also reminded of how she use to tell me I couldn't know a mother's love until I had been one, a Mother that is. I quietly protested until I realized much later that I truly couldn't know the depth of her love. Yet Nature repeatedly shows me the depth of my love, through the joy of honoring and burying the hawk last weekend or bearing witness to the new life testified to by the bees.

Mother Nature's children, the Winged Ones, the Green Ones have arrived revealing to us our hearts and who we are. Such sacredness we have here if only we take the time to bee, to taste the nectar in life's flowering moments. When we take time to listen and be, we find within our own shoots of green. We remember how to Fly.

Imagine with me a world in which people see depth and reclaim words as well as the beauty of things labeled like the fly with disgust.

Be on the lookout for one word, animal or concept you can reclaim today!
-Dawn, The Good News Muse - 2 March 2011
*Click on Mason Bee and Mason bee hive in the story above to learn more about these bees and how to purchase hives. I got mine from Gardener's Supply linked above.

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