We do all this work, and then we die. At times you wonder what the point is. We might as well die now and be done with it. But then the plum tree blooms, and the bees fly onto the blossoms, and the sun is shining, and it is like, this is paradise, who would want to die now? I don’t believe in heaven, but even if I did, it wouldn’t be nicer than this, so what would be the point of dying anyway?



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The bee is in no hurry to die. From flower to flower to goes. On a plum tree, the flowers are so close together, it doesn’t even need to fly. There’s one good drink of nectar after another. I’m watching something far more amazing than anything humans do. Watch the bee insert its long tongue into the flowers. Look at it’s antennae feel its way around. Those little wings, they look like a joke, and yet they carry the bee safely home.

And in the garden, the lovage is out. I’ll wait to die until I’ve at least tasted this season’s lovage. And then there will be one more amazing thing, and another, and another. Who knows, with so many amazing things to see, I may live to be over a hundred.