An Intrepid Pollinator

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M. and I were patrolling the yard for early bloomers when she stooped to peer into this yellow crocus.  “A bee!” she cried, and so it was.  Its small body was scarcely a centimeter in length, and so encrusted with pollen that it appeared golden.  We watched it root around in the nectaries at the base of the flower, then traipse back and forth along the edges of the petals.  The girls kept checking in on the bee between other important yard duties (grass twirls, ball kicks, snow eating, etc.).  As shadows lengthened, the crocus narrowed its corolla, and still the bee remained.  The last we saw before we went inside, our bee was hunkered down in a bivouac of constricted petals.