A busy insect in a profusion of disorganized blooms. We think of flowers as things with stems that fit into vases, but those are actually the exception. Flowers are also sloppy jumbles of things that happen in limitless number, accomplishing in the process their purpose and their goal. This insect is proof of the effectiveness of such flowers. Perhaps they also smell good, though smell and photographs do not go hand in hand. If their smell is irresistible, then their appearance as photographed is secondary. My father used night blooming jasmine only once or twice in his designs, for people who insisted upon jasmine. He hated the smell. For my part, I absolutely adore the smell. If I could have night blooming jasmine in my bedroom I would sleep soundly every night. It has the odor of peacefulness and rest. But the purpose of a flower’s smell is to attract insects, to propagate. You’d think that jasmine would be covered with insects top to bottom. But for the life of me, I don’t remember insects. I remember — as I close my eyes — the smell of jasmine. Pure and simple. Of course, I’m not an insect.