MORNING SENTINEL • October 7, 2020
Beside the driveway one September morning, I stopped to watch a bee with rust-colored midparts pore over some New England asters, bright purple-blue-rayed medallions in tight clusters. Suddenly my vision shifted and I was living in the bee’s world. I saw into the aster disks, the scant sweet moisture there, and the maples, spruces and raspberry thicket, the flowers and withered goldenrod were one intensely vivid, yawning, blank enormity. It was a completely fathomless wilderness. ~ Dana Wilde