Fruiting Potential

About a year ago meles gave us four strawberry plants which have multipleid to the point they need a new bed.

A Day in the Life

Night - The Final Moments
The sun was now fast disappearing below the horizon with its last slivers of light transforming the world once more. The darkness did not come suddenly, it came gradually creeping out of the shadows, claiming the fields, before finally claiming the river itself. The only remaining light was in the sky holding on to blues and purples, but these deepened and lessened with each passing moment. The wings that had supported me tirelessly through the day were now struggling with the fast cooling air. Each beat of the wings requiring maore effort than the last. The physics that had worked in. my favour were now working against me. Those muscles designed for a single day of exertion were now beginning to fail. Rather than fight it I accommodated this natural decline, adjusting my flight to be more effortless. Flying lower I used the air currents, using gliding descents to conserve energy. I found a certain grace in this adaptation, this acceptance of the changing conditions of my existence.

With the falling of night new creatures appeared. Bats negotiated erratic patterns, their high pitched calls beyond my perception, but their claiming of unwary insects from the air made their hunting purpose clear. Moths with their feathery antennae, and wing patterns designed for stealth rather than display, replaced butterflies. The dropping temperature slowed my metabolism requiring each movement to be more deliberate. My eyes were now struggling in the dimness, where they had been so good at detecting movement and ultraviolet patterns during daylight. Even so they revealed one final unanticipated wonder – stars. Initially only one or two pinpricks of light, but resolving into dozens, hundreds, thousands. Finally the sky revealing itself as avast ocean of distant suns. My compound eyes fracturing each prick of light into multiple points creating constellations unique to mayfly vision.

I hovered as long as my wings would allow, totally enchanted with this unexpected revelation of the night. The stars were something that few of my kind would ever witness. Seeing them was reserved for those who survived the predators, the winds, and their own biological limitations.
‘Magnificent isn’t it?’
A vibration so weak that I almost missed it. Another mayfly of indistinguishable gender in the darkness, wings barely moving, hovered nearby.
‘Beyond words.’ I replied, communication now reduced to the simplest vibrations.
‘I didn’t expect… to see… the stars.’ the other mayfly replied, each phrase requiring visible effort.
‘Nor I,’ I agreed ‘ a final gift.’
We hovered together in silence, both needing to conserve our energy, but appreciative of the spectacle before us. United in appreciation of the cosmos that had produced us. Two tiny, short lived observers of its grandeur. What a strange universe that could create beings that lived for but a day, yet which could comprehend the eternity of the stars. Perhaps the brevity of our lives was much more than a limitation. Perhaps it was a perspective, a unique window into the true nature of time.

My companion’s wings finally gave out completely. They didn’t struggle, protest, just accepted a gentle surrender drifting down towards the dark surface of the river. I watched as they disappeared before returning my attention back to the stars. My now trembling wings reflected my growing exhaustion. I noticed that the tear in my hindwing had grown, and was making balanced flight increasingly difficult. It was increasingly obvious that my time aloft was to be measured in minutes rather than hours. Being that this was a natural conclusion to my life I decided to embrace it, and to choose the place and manner of my return to the water. Drifting, spiralling, down towards the centre of the river’s surface reflecting the stars gave the illusion of flying through space itself, surrounded by light in every direction. With my diminishing altitude I felt not fear, there was nothing to be afraid of, what I felt was a profound sense of completion.

It was my wingtips that brushed the water first, the cool touch one final sensation through my nervous system. Eventually my body settled onto the surface tension. I was gently received by the river and allowed my one final moment of rest before drawing me into the flow. Even with my fast fading consciousness my eyes captures one final image. I saw the starlight on the water fractured into thousands of points each possessed of a universe of possibility. This brought me the understanding that my all too brief existence was integral to the eternal cycle, not separate from it.

One day. One life. Complete.

Authors Note
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