Hovering Desire
Today, I’m hiking along the Metolius River, one of my favorite wild places as summer begins to fade. The equinox is still two weeks away, but trees don’t care about human time lines. Vine maple is offering a fall preview with splashes of color; leaves painted with tinges of yellow, orange, and rusty red. Fall bloomers like asters don their purple autumn attire, replacing other flowers that have spent their color for the season. The river flows past these tree and floral displays, gracing the banks with just the right amount of water blessings.
Some riparian species of plants in the wild carrot/parsley family (Apiaceae) continue to reveal their last sprays of white before hard frosts claim them. I pause to admire a Kneeling Angelica (Angelica genuflexa) with its dome of white blossoms—reminiscent of a bursting fireworks display. The beauty of the plant invites me to snap a photo. At the same moment the flower image appears on my phone screen, a hovering bee-like pollinator appears. It flies to the Angelica, then hovers over the phone display, alternating between flower and phone. I wonder if it really recognizes a digital image of the plant.
The diminutive bee is really a “hover fly”, a Syrphidae species that is quite fond of the umbrella-like blooms of Angelica. These hovering, short-mouthed flies find it easier to hover about and land on the flat umbels characteristic of the parsley family. But this fly seems to be a bit confused by a digital facsimile of the plant right next to the real thing. Is it possible we have created a technology that not only ensnares human attention but can befuddle insects? I hope not.
I watch this amusing back and forth between screen and plant for a few seconds, taking care not to jiggle the screen or make any sudden body movements. Eventually, the fly doesn’t seem satisfied with either display and departs to explore more tempting flowers. I swear there was a moment though, when the fly looked up at me and said, “Really? Is this device important to you?” I imagine every natural element has the same question, if we are willing to listen.
The funny thing is that I rarely take photos with my phone, preferring to use a camera instead. The light gathering of the larger lens and the ability to hold the device still make my photographer’s mind happier. I wanted to say that fly, “No, no, I don’t usually take pictures with a phone.” But I already learned the lesson to all us shadow catchers: never be overly distracted by trying to grasp the object of desire. I think Buddha had something to say about this.