The buzz stops me short. I Iook around. Is something dead? It sounds like flies on a carcass. Nothing on the road, nothing in the ditch, nothing in the narrow strip of woods that hides a neighbor’s driveway. I expect a putrid scent, but instead a sweet aroma wafts down through the branches of a tree. The roadside is littered with miniscule flowers dropped by the tree. Black gum? Persimmon? Holly? I can’t tell. I look up into a canopy alive with buzzing, humming, zooming insects, in constant movement from one tiny flower to the next. I try to focus, try unsuccessfully to identify them. Maybe flies, or wasps, or bees of some nature, maybe some beetles in the mix, but there’s definitely a party going on up there, and everyone is buzzing. The light, pleasant scent is nearly as intoxicating as the fragrance of sparkleberries, also blooming now, also with tiny white flowers, and also alive with pollinating insects. The air along the base of the Blue Wall is heady with these smells. They are a scent-uous delight, for sure. ~K