Photography by Lori K. Tate
I rearranged my home office in January. I didn’t do anything too exciting, but I did turn my desk so that I could see out of the window. If you’ve been following the View from My Window Facebook page, which I highly recommend, you’ll see what people from all over the world see from their windows as they quarantine. While my view is not as glamorous as the Sea of Galilee, the Colorado Rockies or a Parisian street, I do have a first-rate view of lush cedars, as well as a tree I have yet been able to identify. (If any of my plant friends read this, please help me out.)
This particular tree sprang from a weed at the edge of our patio at least ten years ago. John and I liked the weed, so we never cut it. Now it’s a tree that reaches beyond our roofline with branches punctuated by waxy leaves and tiny lime-colored blossoms. I love watching it sway in the breeze (big surprise), but I love spying on its visitors even more. Cardinals and blue jays stop by occasionally, but its most frequent guests are bumblebees.
These physics-defying creatures dart in and out of our tree’s branches all day long, gathering nectar and pollen from its bushy buds. A second on one flower and a second on the next, then off they go back into the world. It’s a fabulous nature show, and I’m grateful to have a front-row seat.
Whenever I grow sad and scared about the state of our world — and let’s be honest, we’re in the Olympics of tumultuous times right now — I look at the bees. They’re completely focused on the task at hand, and though they can’t smile, their whimsical flight patterns let me know how content they are — happy even.
It’s a little thing in our big world, but it’s important to cling and collect these little things in our minds. That’s always been the intention of Winks of Goodness. Though I often write about big things like my mother’s death, COVID-19 or race relations, it’s the little things that bring me out of the darkness. It’s the little things that have all the power.
My daughter is picking up on this, and it’s so fun to watch her find her own Winks of Goodness. The other day she came inside to get some beach towels. “We’re going to sit in the yard and look at the clouds,” she said as she walked out the front door. I just smiled thinking about the conversations she and her friends might have about the clouds. Would they discuss their shape? How fast they were moving? What kinds of clouds they were? The possibilities were endless.
A little later, these socially distanced little girls sat on their beach towels licking popsicles, a quintessential summer activity. Though they couldn’t do a lot of the things they normally would have been doing during the summer, they found simple pleasures on our front lawn. There’s magic in that.
These days I keep my eyes peeled for magical moments like these more than ever. Maybe that’s why I’m so enamored by our bumblebees. I admire their determination in getting the job done no matter what — and having a good time while doing it. Every day their arrival renews my hope that somehow everything is going to be okay. As we try to find our footing in a world that’s changing by the minute, we can all take comfort in knowing that the bees are going to keep on buzzing. We should follow suit.