Being a pigeon.
Wild is not an epithet I can get used to when it is applied to fish. They are taciturn and have serious expressions which remind me of bilious humans pursued by worries. Of course fishmongers and restaurateurs use the term to indicate that the fish in question are not farmed but I wish sometimes for another more precise word.
Some of the bee-attracting plants which I have been so successful in the vegetable garden this year are good for cutting. The flowers do not last long so you have to pick those with the liveliest appearance, petals glistening, newly opened for business. They are surely laden with the most pollen. So I find myself waiting while the bees ahead of me busy themselves with the freshest flowers. They are the same ones that catch my eye but for different reasons.