who gather the last pollen.
A circle closes.
Some blogs I follow have excellent photos of bees and butterflies visiting zinnias and other flowers. The pollinators where I live usually move too fast for me. (They seem to start each foraging trip with triple espressos.) I just admire the local zinnias and their visitors as I walk slowly past them, without taking photos. One day late in the 2026 zinnia season, my muse interrupted my walk when she whispered, “Pull your phone out.” I complied while replying, “No post without a poem.” She smirked and winked.














