The Bee

Having a solo day — girls are happily hiking/catching the bus into town so after my 2nd trip to grocery, I hit the trails. Didn’t hike Silver Lake last time so I hit it.

I have snuggled myself onto a nice warm rock, removing my hiking boots and socks to enjoy the rewards of a nice uphill climb. The sun is a blurry white dot above me, stealing a clearing from the billowing cotton whiteness of the clouds trying to cover the bright blue sky. It’s penetrating presence warming my right shoulder and forehead, a glimmer sparkling out of the corner of my eye. I hiked up here alone, except for a tiny bee that has joined me as I sit on a perfect Boulder at the summit. The bee landed on my phone, then crawled onto my fingers and then continued over to my hand. Right now he’s on the back of my left shoulder, shielding himself from the wind. I can feel him stuck on me, like his litttle hands are sticky with some nectar. I can’t tell if he’s mad, he keeps jumping off and buzzing around me then landing again.

I wonder if he is debating whether he wants to sting me or not. I’m thinking of putting out the argument that once he used that stinger, he’s gone and why waste it on me? Wait for someone who is not as tolerant of bees. That way you’d be giving yourself up for a cause — fighting against those who threaten your species’s existence for the rest of all time. That would be a noble death for a bee. I brace myself but feel pretty confident that I won’t even need to do that. It’s a good day.