Every year around this time my aster plant becomes a magnet for wasps and bees. They love the masses of pollen tucked within the florets.
Every type of bee, honey …
… or bubmle, come to visit.
Even the opportunistic green bottle fly gets their nose in the business.
And yet they leave the humble chamomile alone.
That’s okay with me, though. That chamomile is destined for tea to warm me on cool fall evenings on the porch.
Carry on, bees. The aster is all yours.