We saw a few bees here before even the first dandelion, but only now does that seem like it should have signaled some annual celebration ritual. At least, for sure, a note on the calendar and a dance in the yard. Bee populations pollinate so much of our food, and yet our industrial habits create great risks to their continued survival. Small as they are, however, human attention to their needs seems hard to raise. If we each created a bee ritual, a salute to welcome their seasonal sunniness, might some other helpful changes follow?

One movement some people have embraced is No Mow May—allowing grasses and dandelions and native wildflowers people then begin to bring back to our yards, a chance to feed early insects and have them play their ecological roles in both pollinating and in feeding birds, the bright winged creatures large enough to capture human awareness in ways that support a huge economic sector of its own.

As people like Amanda Beltramini Healan, with help from Nashville’s Cumberland River Compact, experience the many gifts of a wilder May, a second initiative—Let It Bloom June—has taken root in our imaginations. Once-barren expanses of pesticided and over-watered lawns, with their endless “requirements” for noisy, gas-powered implements that a tired aesthetic dictated to our neighborly minds have expanded in both diversity and delights. Young kids lead their parents on explorations and treasure hunts just behind the house. Even those of us who live where some mowing has utility in fire-prevention or venomous snake safety, acres of sameness give way now to large re-wilded zones that support butterflies in their mysterious continental migrations. In the fall, you may hear calls to “Leave the Leaves” which protects small friends like salamanders. Often our habitual behaviors and expectations can benefit from thoughtful questioning about where that craziness came from. Lawns have long been one of those, so here’s a shout-out to those who braved outmoded municipal requirements to lead us in new directions.