A Fire Tailed Resin Bee, lovely little thing. Found a few metres from the Mantis nest. It was slow moving and in an effort to get it to stop altogether I gave it my finger to rest on and warm up, it was overcast on a relatively cold day. As soon as it climbed on it started moving faster and in a few seconds was stretching its wings and away it went. So much for it stopping for a better shot.
A bee is a bee, until it’s not. But it never has a problem being a bee. A man is anything the wind blows along, until he’s not. And man can have a problem with being anything, because it’s not the truth. Anything at all, because existence is an alien place.
Man must come to the will to act without it being born of want or not want if he is to avoid more of the same, being without truth. The action carries the imprint of its birthing and imbues the consequences with it.
Or it could be the wind of change just blows through him, we’ll see. Or we won’t, because death is the whole point of living.
We’ll see, if there’s enough pain to change him.
Smile! You’re on candid … (:
© Mark Berkery ……. Click any picture and click again to enlarge