Closer. Closer. Close enough.

Closer. Closer. Close enough.

Sometimes I spot a pollinator in a place where I can get close. Despite it being a chilly day, this guy was very active.

Closer…

Closer…

—crap, I think that’s a Yellow Jacket? (Which are mean and aggressive this time of year when good food gets scarce.) Too close. Too close!

ɕ

I write here most days — reflections, quotes, and working with the garage door up. This is one of more than 5,000 posts. Wander to another →

If you like the way I think, you might like what I’m reading. Every so often I send out 7 for Sunday — seven things I’ve savored, about five minutes, whenever they’re ready. No hooks, no nonsense. Read a recent issue →