Monarch chrysalis. (Photo by Kathy Keatley Garvey)

“Gimme more, gimme more, gimme more!” seems to be the mantra of the rich and famous and the faux rich and famous.

From my perspective: It's better to watch a monarch caterpillar chew on milkweed leaves than to yearn for a pair of Jimmy Choo shoes. Frankly, I wouldn't know a Jimmy Choo if it stepped on my hiking boots. But I would know if a monarch fluttered down and touched me on the hand.

I cannot recognize the fragrance of the world's most expensive perfume, Annick Goutal Eau d'Hadrien – $441.18 per ounce—I looked it up. But I do know the aroma of a honeysuckle beckoning a honey bee.

I wouldn't know a Louis Vuitton designer bag from or a Chanel but I do know this: the old and tattered camera bag slung over my shoulder is a faithful workhorse with a purpose.

I wouldn't know Dolce & Gabban jeans from Robert Cavall but I do admire the genes of a monarch butterfly and a honey bee. 

I wouldn't know a princess-cut diamond from an emerald-cut diamond but I do know that the shape of a lady beetle is a cut above.

For me, the glow of a diamond on a finger pales at the glow of a monarch on milkweed. “Precious” is not the stone but what just eclosed from a chrysalis.

So, today as we give thanks with our family and friends, this question begs for answer: Do we own our possessions or do our possessions own us?

Life should not be about pursuing and protecting our materialistic possessions but pursuing and protecting our passions. Such as exploring the wonderful world of insects...

Hap-bee Thanksgiving!

Today is Thanksgiving.

As we give thanks and reflect on a day set aside to be grateful, we realize that not all is great in the world of haves and have-nots, the generous and the greedy, and troublemakers and peacemakers.

Miscommunications turn into misunderstandings. Agreements turn into disagreements. Harmony turns into hostility. Like an open wound, tensions bulge, crack and fester.  Life saddens, disappoints and crushes us. 

But today is Thanksgiving, a day to be grateful. All around us, people are giving thanks, sharing memories, shoring up the holiday spirit, and feasting on turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberries, and pumpkin pie. Among the many things we are grateful for: we are grateful that we are not a turkey.

Last summer as a praying mantis "prayed" for dinner in our bee garden, we were thankful we were not a bee.

Of the many things I'm thankful for on this Thanksgiving Day, I am thankful for the millions of insects that populate our planet. Scientists have described more than a million species, but there may be 10 million more undescribed.

I am thankful for honey bees. There is no more comforting sound on a warm summer day than the buzz of bees as they pollinate the plants and return to their colonies with nectar and pollen. I am thankful for their role in providing the fruits and vegetables that we eat.

But that's just me.

I am thankful for bumble bees, especially the endangered ones that struggle to overcome the tragic changes to their environment. Bumble bees are social insects but what developers and others are doing to them is definitely anti-social.

But that's just me.

I am thankful for butterflies, nature's flying art that flutter in our garden and touch gently down on blossoms for a lingering sip of nectar. Their beauty overwhelms me.

But that's just me.

I am thankful for the pre-historic looking dragonflies that glide gracefully over our ponds and streams to snag mosquitoes and other undeirable insects. 

But that's just me.

I am thankful for the insects that clothe us: the bees for pollinating cotton plants, and the silkworms for spinning cocoons.

But that's just me.

I am thankful for the beneficial insects, like honey bees, ladybugs, lacewings, assassin bugs, damsel bugs, soldier beetles, big-eyed bugs, syrphids, and parasitic mini-wasps.

But that's just me.

I am thankful for bee gardens, gardeners, entomologists and insect photographers. Frankly, I would rather spend an afternoon photographing insects in my backyard than sitting on a crowded beach in Hawaii with a little umbrella decorating a drink that I don't drink.

But that's just me.

I am thankful I don't engage in recreational shopping, collect pretentious possessions, or focus on five-star restaurants, especially when starving, ravaged and troubled souls sit forlornly outside. I firmly believe that Brown Thursday, Black Friday and Cyber Monday should not be an integral part of our lives, and that “greed” should be replaced by “giving."

But that's just me.

I'm happy with what I have. To me, it's important to “want” what you have, than to “have” what you want.

But that's just me.

Today I'm especially thankful for two Gulf Fritillary butterflies that just emerged from their chrysalids. 

The double emergence may seem like a “minor” thing to be thankful for today but it's the “minor" things that I treasure. And why "happy" should always precede the name of this holiday. 

"THANKS...

GIVING." 

Hap-bee Thanksgiving!

If you're having cranberries, squash, pumpkins,  carrots, cucumbers (and pickles) onions, grapefruit, oranges,  apples,  pears, cherries, blueberries, sunflowers and almonds,  you can thank the honey bee.

 “A substantial portion of the meal is pollinated by the honey bee,” said Extension Apiculturist Eric Mussen, a member of the UC Davis Department of Entomology faculty and a noted authority on honey bees.

Cole crops, such as cabbage, Brussel sprouts, kale, spinach, chard,  and broccoli, are pollinated by bees.

Almonds often garnish parts of the meal, and those, too, are pollinated by bees--along with macadamia nuts, said bee breeder-geneticist Susan Cobey, manager of the Harrry H. Laidlaw Jr. Honey Bee Research Facility at UC Davis.

Even milk and ice cream are linked closely to the honey bee.  Cows feed on alfalfa, which is pollinated by honey bees (and other bees). Ice cream ingredients usually include fruits and nuts, other bee favorites.

And the turkey? If it eats sunflower seeds--and it does--sunflowers are pollinated by bees.  

Vegetarians can also be thankful. Bees visit soybeans (made into tofu for tofu turkey and other meatless dishes).  “And bees can make a honey crop foraging on lima beans,” Mussen said.

And don’t forget the honey: honey-glazed carrots, honey rolls and honey-baked ham… 

No wonder "honey" is a term of endearment...