A Bee’s Beckoning

Oh, to be a bee. A thought weve all had, right?
Photo location: pxhere.com

Oh, to be a bee. A thought we’ve all had, right? Photo location: pxhere.com

Anna Jordan, Staff Writer

A floating wisp of black and yellow, the bee floated against gravity with willowy wings at its beck and call. On the hunt for some pollen— the stuff of life, they say!— the little insect was all bee and no bumble, despite the evolutionary story within the stinger on its bumble-behind. It had no intention of using it— the stinger was merely a suggestion!

Colors flowed in the world around our bumble friend as it looked over the many wonderful places to rest in the early morning sunlight, the warmth being just enough keep the bee cheery but not too hot during the sweet blaze of summer. The sluggish air of morning mixed with the honey of the early placement of the sun to make a fluid expanse for the bumble bee to rise and fall as if swimming through an ocean (the small bee had always wondered what it would be like to swim). It struggled to carefully lower its body down to the pillows of petals perfectly prepped with golden pollen. What joy to roll in the stuff of life!

Covered in sweets to bring home to its friends, our buzzing friend nearly fell back to the dewy grass in pure delight of the sleepy creeping feeling of both warmth and heavy pollen coating his body. But on the bee carried! That is, until the most delightful pond caught its eye, and oh my dear, the crystalline water beckoned with a siren song of the true experience of swimming. But oh dear, the delectable temptation of coolness is simply approaching all to quickly, our bee friend nearly shouted, I may let the whim overcome me and what will I do then?

In a moment of brilliance, the buzzing wonder of nectar and longing threw himself into a bed of tulips rather than the expanse of doom, narrowly avoiding the beckoning of its wildest dreams and its near demise. In this bed, another world beckoned for our buzzing protagonist: mossy hills connected the stalks of reddish orange palaces and in the iridescent valley lay our bumbling wonder’s salvation!

Yes, a puddle it may have been, but it was more than just a collective of cohesive and adhesive forces holding the refreshing temptress together, it was life, it was dream made real, it was a fabrication of longing it was–

It was a splash of emancipation!

Finally, the buzzing curiosity had found its great perhaps, its seizure of day, its great yawp, the balance of life and wonder! As the little bumblebee crawled slowly into the shallow puddle and the kiss of chilled water surrounded the mingling friendship of dream and fantasy, the bee knew that nothing would ever be sweeter than the chill of honey and water, a partnership not soon forgotten. A balance, achieved by nature but tasted by the bee with no bumble.