We head into a new decade, while a bee slices
through the humid morning air towards
the empire of the sun.
 

A chance meeting with a tiny wasp,
its shadow carelessly thrown across a leaf,
needed no longer, called back home
by the sun.

A fierce winter starling takes advantage
of the last rays of a cold dying sun.

A cold summer turned to a cold fall here,
no place for a spring goldfinch
looking for news from the sun.
 

Yellow angel of the garden, hearts desire, lord and master of sunlight.
 

A honey bee comes in with a harvest of dark pollen, a small contribution to the distinctive flavor of the hive’s honey.
 

A beetle watches the last rays of the sun disappear.
 
Another day ends in a wash of shadows on the banks of the Huron River.
 
This image also appears in my book of portraits from the microwilderness, Bug Dreams.
 

A maze of asters, a myriad pollen destinations, the blazing end of a busy day for a bumblebee.

Twirl like fire, leap at the sun.
Let’s twist again like we did last summer.
This honey bee wants to rock with you.

A glimpse of the fading sun, the wind-kissed antennae tremble.

Laden with pollen from an afternoon’s work, a honey bee navigates the sunlit stalks of a Black-eyed Susan.