“TO make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,—
One clover, and a bee,
The revery alone will do
If bees are few.”
–Emily Dickinson, Nature, Part 97
I visited the Emily Dickinson Museum today. There Dickinson lived, slept, and wrote. As I stood in the space where she spent the majority of her life–her bedroom–I couldn’t help but imagine her life, both contained in the room and by culture and society and free in her intellect and by her discourse with friends. Given my experiences lately, I reminiscence ambivalently over the words, “Seek and you will find.” She seemed to have found a unique experience in a world that otherwise contained her desires.
As I sat in the room with the tour guide and other guests reading Dickinson’s poetry, I yearned for a time when I was in school, when the workings of the mind, the intersections of gender and language, consumed my thought…but I was also comforted to learn that one of Dickinson’s hobbies was keeping a conservatory of plants and constructing a herbarium. Though her poetry speaks often of nature, her surroundings demonstrate her care of the natural world.
As I perused the grounds after leaving the house, I spied bumblebees enjoying the various flowers. Though one enjoying the hostas was hard to capture on film, the one above was resting on the pink blooms before continuing her forage.