As I type, I’m sitting on the porch. I hear buzzing. It’s not the neighbor’s gardener, not this time. It’s bees. Maybe they’re feeding on the rosemary, or having their way with the night-blooming jasmine. I’m not going to look. I’m going to leave them be, bee. I’m not going to touch their blooming victuals. […]...

Apr 8, 2012 / More »

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