It's really unusual for me to blog twice in a week, but here goes. As you might have seen on Facebook, Barry and I went to see the annual ladybug visit to Redwood Park here in the Oakland hills. When we got home, Barry tasked me with writing a ladybug poem in the style of Mary Oliver. I'm no Mary Oliver, but I do write the occasional poem, so here's the rough draft.
What guides the ladybugs
to cluster every year
in the early winter months
alongside the Stream Trail?
How do they remember,
locate their way back,
find each other?
Clustering in the sunny patches of
blackberry brambles and on
dead logs, they rest,
lay their eggs, and
wait for Spring.
Why are ladybugs, like salmon
pitting their way back
to the places of their spawning,
smarter than we supposedly
superior humans?
They know to spend the bleak
winter months congregating with
their companions, while we so often think
we must overwinter alone, or only
with a few of our nearest and dearest.
Here is what ladybugs know:
Rest.
Find your way home.
Huddle up together.
Stay warm.
