The cholla along the ditch surprised me yesterday, coming into full bloom suddenly––in just that moment, I thought. Or, more likely, I had passed unnoticing, thinking of other such important things. The little New Mexico bees are in love with her and not at all taken up with any concerns but this. They devote themselves utterly. We are here for a nano second, and when we are gone, the cholla will still be showing off her magenta glory; the bees will keep on gathering and scattering; the cholla's golden fruits will appear in the fall beside the prosaic ditch. We are here, and then we're gone, and the rest continue despite all the indignities to which we subject them while we're here.