By Vladimir Brezina
… to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease …
John Keats, To Autumn
This past weekend was beautiful: dry, calm, sunny and warm—Indian Summer weather. In New York City’s Central Park, still mostly a fall-denying green, a fresh crop of flowers was out. And the park’s bees and butterflies, like the city’s human inhabitants, were out in force.