A continuing story of Chaz the GELF, bartender at the Intergalactic Truckstop.

Time to go forward. Chaz steps gingerly onto the sap, feeling a nervous delighted shiver as it gives just a little under his sandal...

A hiss from the northwest, getting louder and closer. The globeflowers are letting out their pollen again, opening their stamens to let the tiny grains struggle upwards on their desperately-flapping microscopic wings. It's a chain reaction, each erupting flower setting off the charged-up flowers next to it. Waves of pollen release sweep across the plains, and after each one the flowers recharge and ready the next batch for flight. It's worth seeing, but Chaz has seen it three times today already and his attention is held by the pit. The colors are changing, falling into new patterns that radiate out from his pressing foot. They shift again as Chaz brings his other foot down.

Thanks again to chaz-fox for letting me play with Chaz. See him in his native habitat.

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