No, not me, but this one…

It is amazing to me how bees just seem to hang out on a flower for bed. Perhaps he is dreaming of foxgloves. Then, four minutes later, at eight o’clock, he is busy working through the bed of them before moving on.

I miss our maple tree downed in last year’s storms and the branches stripped from the survivors. The early morning swing is not so inviting this year. But the sun moves swiftly in its course and soon I will enjoy some afternoon reading against it’s cushions.

May you enjoy some rest this Sunday.