Bees scared me once upon a time. When I was a child, maybe six years of age, my cousin had begun to bang on a drain pipe as we waited by the front door of my house while my parents were collecting grocery bags from the car. It was the middle of the day, a warm, blue sky, summer day in rural New York. I complained of being hot, but that was my own fault since I wore my favorite puffy jacket I refused to leave. My legs, however, were exposed - I was convinced to wear jean shorts. The banging kept going and I cried out for her to stop, “There’s bees in there! Didn’t you see them crawl in?” One had, in fact, crawled in. I was always told ‘if you see a bee or wasp crawl somewhere small, there might be a nest, so be careful!’.. but my cousin didn’t listen. Next thing I know, it wasn’t just the one bee, but an entire cluster; attacking my legs that were the first thing they saw as they fled the drain pipe. I screamed and stomped, trying anything to get them away. I can confidently say I got stung at least 10 times that day, their favorite spot my right knee. My parents ran me inside to the bathroom, setting me on the counter by the sink where they frantically started some form of first aid I can’t remember - I remember the pain, the cold counter, and nothing else from that day. It was a lot of pain for such a small body, after all. I still remember the pit in my stomach when I found out that some bees die after they sting. I was still so young, not even ten years old when I learned, and I cried. I mourned for the creatures that were so brutally awoken by my cousin, defending their home in that white metal tube, simply to die right after. How could something so small, so frail to a simple swat, become a victim of mine? These beings deserved kindness, one of flowers and happy buzzing as they worked away, not a care in the world. But I was so stuck on the fact that I had been the reason they all died. I know now that they may not even have been honey bees, but I’m still kind to any type I see. Whether they’ll die from stinging or not, such a small thing, ones that keep all of us alive on this world especially, do not deserve the rash cruelty of a swat simply because their buzzing may be a little close for comfort. They cannot help that they defend themselves and their homes, just as we humans do. No matter how small, they are equal, if not greater. They deserve respect.
I honestly have to say I am SOOOO IMPRESSED! I am absolutely loving all the artistic contributions, poems, and helpful knowledge sharing!! Also I see your Hive @unnie, way to BEE a hero! I've just sent out the first batch of BumbleFluffs to folks and will send again Next Friday and the following Tuesday!
Hi all! I wrote this poem for you guys about bees! It's called: We Need the Bees! Bees, bees, We love the bees Important as the rain. Without the bees, Like grass or trees, There's nothing we can gain. Bees, bees, That buzz and fly, Be careful of their hive. Scary though They seem to some, We need them all alive.
the honey bee 🐝 Honey Bee Honey Bee bring by your charm. Your sweet warmth from your swarm. Makes us some honey as sweet as a flower. Pile the hive full in your golden tower. Pancakes and muffins, and French toast. A million ways to eat it, I think I love your sweet honey, the most. Honey Bee Honey Bee, I hope you will always want to be here. I will wait for you with my plate and fork and a smile full of cheer. I’ll guard and protect you as you weave and I hope you never ever want to leave.
One of the most important coffee plants is Robusta, which makes up around 40% of the world’s coffee production. It's self-sterile and depends entirely on cross pollination. In short, it needs bees! Soo, if you love coffee, you should also love bees☺️ ☕ ♡ 🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦