The sun beat down on the growing cluster of black-eyed Susan as each flower below stretched skyward, a sea of yellow and black hoping to touch the fiery heaven above. Like looking into a kaleidoscope when gazed at too intently and too long, the colors danced in circles in my mind’s eye. The yellow and black swayed, circled and swam in a drunken dance of color.
A blink of the eyes returned focus to the flowers before me. Golden lashes reached out from dark eyes, tempting – beckoning – passersby.
As the flowers danced in the summer sun, I saw that they were not alone. Bees had succumbed to temptation, kissing their black and yellow brethren in the hurried task of pollination. Before long they were joined by a tiger swallowtail. The butterfly and its black and yellow wings fluttered in erratic flight, forced to drink the dregs the bees left behind. The evidence was clear: bees were built for work; butterflies were built for play. While one sings, the other stings.
Standing back from the black-eyed Susans, it seemed to me that the world isn’t black and white. It’s black and yellow, eternal lovers dancing in symbiotic song.