I found a bee this morning,
Frozen in place on a spotless florist daisy on the windowsill in my kitchen.
He was stuck,
This beautiful,
Industrious,
Important honeybee had gotten trapped inside in the wrong place.
I usually carry bees and bugs and wasps to my mother's astonishment outside.
But this guy,
He needed a little extra help.
I took him to a sunny windowsill and brought him some purple dead nettle from the back lawn.
He moved slowly.
He probed the pink flowers with his startlingly long proboscis and slurped up the nectar.
Then he became still again.
I thought it might be too cold for him,
All alone without a hive buzzing at a constant 90 degrees.
So I filled a miniature glass bottle with boiling water and sat it next to him.
He leaned against it until he had enough energy to probe another flower.
He was soon buzzing and began wandering around the windowsill.
Maybe he was strong enough to go outside.
The sun was starting to warm the lawn,
Brimming with spring weeds.
I helped him onto a miniature bouquet of greenery and took him to the yard,
Resting him in the grass in proximity to more flowers.
I watched his little black antennae twitch,
And he seemed to look at me with black oblong eyes that stretched along the side of his head like a little alien being.
I found myself thinking about how nice it would be to have someone push opportunities under my nose,
Provide a safe place to launch from,
To watch over me as I warmed up and tried out my wings and took off.
And as soon as I had that thought,
I realized that I do have all of this.
I have been cared for and set up for success by a very big hand that I can't quite understand or totally see.
Not to mention the support of family and friends and amazing human beings I encounter every day.
And I can drink a little and rest and be carried closer and closer to the thing I'm made to do,
Even when I'm not always sure where I'm going or how I'll get there.
Just like this honeybee that ended up,
It turns out,
In exactly the right place.
