I witnessed a delightful orgy this morning in the pollinator patch next to our pump in the pasture. It was a bee orgy. Boy, were they having a good time. Poppies, red ones especially, held half a dozen or more bees each. They rolled around, rubbing their little bodies in the yellow gold, threading themselves between pistils and stamens. They were punch-drunk with happiness, as was I just watching. We’ve been waiting for this day.
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