This summer my wife and I decided to leave a large swath of our lawn uncut, she calls it our "Pollinator Garden." It took me a while to get over my (mostly irrational) fears of what our neighbors would say, but observing this large patch of milkweed has become the best thing for my creative mind, and we hope cultivating it to be a tiny help to our planet as well. The milkweed patch has been an attractor for all sorts of creatures, but the most fascinating have been the bees and Monarchs. Growing up in rural Maine we would have constant contact with Monarchs in all of their stages, and it was bittersweet to be so excited about them now, a sign of how much our planet has changed and how fragile our world seems.

I started to video the milkweed patch, and it didn't take long for it to be an obsession and a real project. I was astounded by how hard every creature works to survive! The Monarch caterpillar pictured above has an astounding routine on its journey to become a butterfly. The milky sap from the milkweed would harm them, so before they eat the leaves they carefully chew through the vein that would carry the sap, cutting it off and allowing them to eat in peace. And eat they do, it is tiring just to watch!

We had more types of bees and other insects visit than I could identify, but the swarms of honey bees made the best subject:

As a composer I have never found anything more confounding and impossible to work through than possibility without boundary. My best work has always come from a well placed limitation; sometimes abstract, sometimes concrete, but for me a spark never comes from the sprawling confusion, but rather from a narrow niche carved out of the endless possibilities. It is difficult to say exactly how or why, but the creatures I captured on video, and the plant that sustains their busy lives have cracked open the exact right niche for me in this moment, and for that I am grateful. Please stay tuned for more updates and the final work: Milkweed.

-NJS