Last year’s dearth of bumblebees is but a memory, as they swarm and buzz around the lace-cap hydrangea, alighting on the purple and pink blooms. Back in full, floating effect, they are the first of my companions on a summer day bathed in sun, basking in the sweet perfume and pollen of the flowers at hand.
The fragrance of the lace-cap hydrangeas is one of the secrets they keep. Their broad-flowered cousins carry no scent whatsoever, and in exchange for the showiness of those blooms the lace-caps come with a sweet fragrance that is a lighter version of a privet flower. It must be incredibly appealing to bees, as they are happily rummaging through the fields of pollen and nectar. The climbing hydrangea has an even more sweetly pungent bloom, one that drifts throughout the backyard. This relatively smaller specimen still pacs a punch, wafting over the pool as I take a moment to enjoy this summer day.
My arms slung over a rubber pool float, I let my body dangle weightlessly in the water – the instant relief of gravity suddenly lifted, replaced by the pressure of cool liquid. Summer came with pleasures that seemed unthinkable just half a year ago. It carried its own meditative moments, and as I let the current of the pool swirl me around I caught the sparkle of a dragonfly out of the corner of my eye. It darted closer, then hovered right in front of me, its saucer-like eyes both scary and awe-inspiring. So many creatures saw so much more than we humans ever could. How foolish to think we could ever see it all.
The dragonfly circled, coming back to hover before me again, then did it a third time, as if to say hello, to make a connection, to dance a little dance across the water. Summer enchantments…
