The Bee & His Path To Spring

On the last day of a particularly long winter, while a swarm of bees was moving hives, the strangest thing occurred. A single, lone, baby bee was left behind! Without the entire swarm together, who knows what would happen, for surely, this was the first time in all of history a bee had been forgotten. Though scared and alone, the baby bee was certain he could make his way to the hive alone, and after some contemplation, set out across the meadow in search of his family.

The meadow was big, and this was the farthest the tiny bee had flown all at once, so when he reached the edge of the forest, he stopped to rest. At the foot of a tall tree, barely hidden in the stark forest, stood the cunning fox.

“Look at that small pest of a thing!” He said, as he pointed and scoffed at the bee. “Never in my life have I seen such a small, sorry creature.” The fox looked away in disgust, “and your audible hum is a clear indicator you are not swift or sly enough to hunt with the precision as I do. No fault of your own, I am the best in the forest. Now, what is it you do,” he asked in condescension. Without answer the intimidated bee decided his rest was over. He continued his journey, slightly daunted by the words of the fox.

Deep in the forest where the bee happened across a stream, he checked around to make sure the pesky fox hadn’t followed him, before taking a rest by the water’s edge. The tiny bee began to enjoy the warm sun on his wings when a loud thump came from downstream. The curious bee ventured the direction of the heavy consistent thuds in intervals of three. ­-thump-thump-thump- Rounding a corner near the mouth of the stream stood the strong, dependable beaver building his home.

“If you can’t help, keep it moving,” -thump-thump-thump- The noise rattle the tiny bee and the beaver waved off the tiny bee as he pounded some mud and clay into the cracks of his dam. “You don’t even have a strong tail, no teeth for chomping trees. Tell me, how could you possibly build a home? Get out of here you pest!” -thump-thump-thump- he piled more and more on.

Feeling especially sorry for himself, the bee took rest on a leaf just above the rushing stream. When all of a sudden, a deep rumble startled him into a hover. From underneath a moss canopy, sprung a family toads.

“-ribbit- You aren’t like any -ribbit- frog I’ve seen. “The oldest, loudest frog croaked, his ribbit shook the leaves around them. “Your legs are far too frail to jump, and you’ve already lost your tail for swimming. What are you small thing, and what do you do? -ribbit--ribbit-” Determined not to be bullied, the bee spoke this time.

“bzzzz-No I can’t jump or swim. I can fly-bzzzzz” suddenly the frog’s eyes switched over with a blink into a catatonic gaze.

“-ribbit--ribbit-FLY-ribbit--ribbit--ribbit-FLY-ribbit--ribbit-“Without warning a giant flash of pink tongue left the frog’s mouth. The bee darted left narrowly missing the sticky deathtrap. Instantly the tongue recoiled and lashed back toward the bee bringing with it a fury of other baby toad tongues aiming for the bee in a frenzy, forcing him to dart upward. The frogs leapt after the bee inching closer to him with every lick. The frightened bee flew away as quick as his little wings would carry him.

He flew and flew until those -ribbit-s were long out of earshot. He flew until his tiny little wings felt as if they would fall off, and as if his tiny little bee body would fall clear out of the sky. He flew and flew and flew until he just couldn’t anymore. The bee plopped down.

The tiny bee began to close his eyes and cry. His little bee heart had given up all hope of finding his bee colony, and of reaching his new hive. Though small, they flowed, and his exhausted and terrified tears turned into sobs. Eventually he could hear noises around him, but that didn’t stop his cries.

“who-“ the wise owl who had ventured onto a neighboring tree limb could stifle himself no longer. Though he said nothing more, it was enough. The bee looked up, tears still in his eyes and the owl met his gaze. He blinked back his tears and sniffled up his snot.

“How can I expect to find my new hive? I’m not cunning like the fox. I am not strong or dependable like the beaver. I am not limber like the frog. I can not do any of these things. How will I ever find my hive?” The wise owl smile brightly, a smile the bee had not seen on the face on anyone he’d passed, and finally the owl spoke.

“Oh but tiny bee, the compass inside you is mighty, and the heart inside you is fierce. Please now, stop your tears, for you are closer now than you think.” The bird then took flight leaving the bee to himself. His tears quickly dried as he sat in the silence.

…or was it silence?

He wasn’t sure, but that tiny little bee could swear he heard something familiar. At first is started very low, almost inaudible, humming in the distance. The distinct sound of his swarm roared louder and louder, as if the sound was getting closer and nearer to him. It, in fact, was, and the bee realized it was him flying toward the sound, not the other way around. He flew and flew, faster and faster as the noise grew, and warmth and happiness swelled inside him.

The tall trees of the forest began to thin out becoming more scarce and green fields of budding blossoms sprawled beneath him. He spotted the hive like a beacon rising through the foliage under him. Cheers resounded as the colony swarmed together around it’s missing member.

“bzzz-we’ve been waiting for you,” the swarm buzzed around him loud and comforting; a sound only other bee found soothing. “Now that the swarm is together, we can spread the pollen and bring spring!” As the completed swarm began to dance from blossom to blossom, playing and laughing in the warming weather. The bee realized he learned an important lesson. If you compare your path with the path of others, you will always feel lost; stay on your path.