Busy becoming

Spring seems to be moving ahead slowly, but out there most creatures are working as hard as teenagers at the mall on a Saturday night. There’s a lot of dressing up and dressing down, posturing, swishing, busting out, and dangling treats. And in the corners, an almost — but not quite — unseemly show of unfurling, throwing hair, and sticking, oozing, and seeping.

Working hard at maturing and getting ready to multiply. But hurry, hurry, the season is short.

I remember it well.

10 thoughts on “Busy becoming

  1. If you ask me, there is no end “to becoming”. Granted we may enter the process with all the naivete of childhood and adolescence but it just keeps happening well into old age. If we’re not becoming, what’s the point of being? Always love your photos.

    1. I agree. Although I woudl say that the hormonally-pushed urgency does level off. Currently I am in a state of ‘awareness of impending death’ fueled urgency, which actually makes me do more and flail less. Feels okay.

      1. I get a recharge from observing the bizillion of emerging life in my little pond.
        I love the photos…

      1. Duh. Of course, dressing. Which reminds me: what does a female-identified but not girly person wear to an American wedding à la façon Française? Hat? No hat? dress? Cocktail dress? Long dress? Tuxedo?

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