All abuzz

(126:  Hide and seek.  Photo © 2009 by Robin)

As you may have guessed, I have been feeling more than a little blah and blue lately, finding it difficult to get excited about much of anything including my photography.  I realize it’s understandable and normal.  It’s also frustrating in a way as the lack of energy and ambition has led to a further lack of energy and ambition and that, my friends, leads me to a messy house.  Depressing.

Yes, yes, yes, I know.  Honestly, I do.  I know that a messy house is not the end of the world (a favorite phrase of Mom’s — “it’s not the end of the world”).  I will not go to my grave regretting that I didn’t spend more time cleaning.  It’s just… clutter and mess are not conducive to bringing me up and out of the blahs and blues.  A disorganized house, for me, is a disorganized mind.  They feed on each other, creating a cycle of clutter and depression.  It’s about getting things under control although why I think things need to be under control is beyond me.

So yesterday I gave up on control and energy and ambition.  I ignored my to-do list.  I watched Dancing With the Stars on Hulu.  That cheered me up a little.  The bizarreness of their “star” choices is too funny.  Tom Delay??  Good grief.

Then I stepped outside for a little while, bringing the camera along with me to take a picture of some flowers that my sister-in-law sent.  I thought she might like to see them.  My intention was to snap the shot, put the camera back in the house, and maybe wander around outside for a little while.  I started out well.  I took the photo of the pot of flowers.  And then I got distracted by a low hum coming from the wildflower meadow.  With camera in hand, I walked over to see what all the humming was about.

The meadow is buzzing with bees.  All sorts of bees.  Honey bees, bumble bees, and carpenter bees were the three I was able to identify with some degree of (un)certainty.  There are so many bees that their hum and buzz is almost carried up into the house.  One giant of a bee attracted my attention and the next thing I knew, I had all but forgotten to be blah and blue while I followed the bee around the goldenrod.

It was a lovely respite.