We R MetaphoR

Aaaah, Fall – When it comes, much of the time it is unexpected. I mean, it is warm in the sun, cool in the shade, and altogether a sunny breeze is very appreciated at this time of the year.

My tall coneflower Ratibida pinnata is taking the lead now with color and interest. Here it is with the beginning of the asters, and a few extra friends.
Another interesting  item of note is the increase in bee visits to this yellow haven. On a single day, each and every bloom has a bee sitting on it, eagerly sampling the compound flowers. They are neraly drunk with work and honey and allow a camera to come quite close without incident.

Of course, bumblebees are a docile breed in the first place. Yet they are like us in so many ways. The metaphor becomes almost a banal repetition of the bon mots heard through life.
Here are some of the truisms I found that describe what we’re seeing:

  • busy as a bee” Well, what can be less busy? These unrelenting swarms are constant and unabated in the least bit of sun.


  • No bees, no honey; no work, no money” We all need to remember to apply ourselves to be successful.

 

  • If a bee stings you once, it’s the bee’s fault; if a bee stings you twice, it’s your own damn fault. ” Well, probably. However, these girls are doomed if they use their ultimate weapon, so they choose their battles carefully.

 

  • Bees that have honey in their mouths have stings in their tails.” Ever think you have a friend or a relative that acts as if they accept you for yourself, yet talks behind your back?

 

  • The wise bee does not sip from a flower that has fallen.” The Chinese want us to know that something that is useless or futile is not worth the attention it gets. Run to the ripest fruit and taste the wonders it holds.
So, life is a metaphor for what we see now in the garden. The bees congregate and communicate their waggly selves as they draw the nutrients they need to build their homes and feed their young with fail. In the same way, we need to cooperate, share and communicate to each other to survive.
In that way, we are metaphor. We are bon mot, we are busy bees hovering over the next tongueful of sweetness.


 

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