I did not organize my working life well enough to this point to be able to spend six hours or more all told traipsing from bowl to bowl fishing these little beings out so that they can fly on. At best I might manage 30 minutes total and save a few. Most die in between.
Most days my choices are just fine, lessons at worst, and all survivable so long as they’re storied to learn from and crawl through. In the face of such untimely quotidian deaths, though, of these tiny creatures so necessary to human life? I regret my previous misspendings.
p.s. Some couple hours later or so…. It has just this moment occurred to me that some of these bees may be choosing to end their lives in cool water and that I, by imposing my human values of LIFE At Any Cost!, may well be denying them their final wish. Who knows? Maybe a bee has lived its entire existence counting on that final dip into liquid and its soothing release from all labours? Only to be thwarted by a great big ol’ knucklehead bent on fashioning her corner of the world in her own problematic image?! 😉
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