A special case of solitude is coming or remaining as last person or specimen. In my reports from the republic of flowers I payed more than one time attention to its citizens flowering just before winter –
– but also to their late or last guests visiting the garden before the frost, like these drones, with no own place to return to:
Even after the first frost some slower wanderers reappear for a while:
With special care I have been looking at this last nasturtium, emerged from an almost dead branch of the main plant in the last days of November.
I have been asking the little one: Who will teach you the art of your kind if all your older wise sisters went dead? (Whole story) Those crafty ones who in the fine days of summer were showing old stories in their magic lanterns:
The guests are sometimes lonely but busy wanderers like most of us, on the way to their nest.
Other guests are looking for a nice place to stay another while, like some of us, I presume.
Most unproblematic is being the only one in sight.