Pollinating Pleasure

Pollinating Pleasure

Contributed by Carrie Bowell

These sun-draped mornings call in an enchanting flavor that can only be satisfied by the simple moments. I find myself tracing the invisible pathways of bees as they flit from bloom to bloom, gathering sweetness from the blossom. There is a kind of quiet pleasure in watching them—a reminder that we, too, can harvest small moments of delight. 
 
Pleasure doesn’t have to be loud. It doesn’t have to be complicated. It’s in the sticky fingers from a dripping popsicle. In the laughter shared under a canopy of green leaves. In the sudden flash of a kingfisher darting across a river’s gleam. In the shimmer of dragonfly wings catching the sun before zipping out of sight. In the cool embrace of tundra under barefoot. 
 
Our summers are a gulp we cannot get a second drink from. We chase the days into nights and awaken with early morning. The only blessing we can offer ourselves is to ease into each day, pollinating pleasures from the present moment—sipping nectar from blooms as they blossom and watching the small earth critters take in time at a pace that softens the pleasure of the twinkling time.