Iridescence and I go back a long way. When my family visited my grandparents in Texas, I was plunged into an alternate universe from my home in Canada, clearly signaled by the red plastic hummingbird feeders that my grandmother hung in the backyard. Filled with red sugar water, the mock flowers enticed the Ruby Throated hummingbirds, and I was transfixed by the iridescence at their throats.
I didn’t know it was called iridescence, of a surface taking on different hues from different angles, just that my eye went right to it. We didn’t have hummingbirds in Edmonton, but I did have a supply of eyeshadow, and was particularly taken with one that flicked between gold and green. Eyeshadow was as alluring as the hummer’s throat. I didn’t really understand makeup as a way to attract boys, but rather a palette of color and sparkle and transformation.
And now it appears that bees are drawn to floral iridescence, concentrated in the ultraviolet range, beyond what our human eyes can see. So not only do they see “bee purple” but in iridescent glory. Perhaps I was meant for iridescence, since my name “Margaret” means Pearl, and pearls have layers that refract light like tiny prisms, bringing forth all the colors of the rainbow. The rainbow does not have to be bright; it can be subtle like this shell swirl by honey 77.