Busy as …


Bees are synonymous with being busy.  Yet, we don’t complain because we see the value of what they do in nature.  It is a growing concern they seem to be declining and the impact of this is far reaching.  I don’t know much about bees at all but I do know there are thousands of species.  Bees are interesting creatures.  They can be solitary or live in complex communities.  They are collaborative workers, they know their business and go about it in a focused way.  The solitary bee does not make honey.  They are valued for being pollinators.  They create their own nest and feed their brood.  They are fearsome in the defense of their brood as well.  Hmmm something resonates here!

A friend once wrote me a poem about bees and gave it to me when we parted, saying every time they saw a bee, they would think of me.  I hope they continue to think of me.

The label ‘single mother’ is not a derogatory term in the bee world!  I know it to be so in my world.  When my son was in kindergarten his elderly teacher sent a note home and asked me to come in for an interview.  This was a time soon after my marriage ended and I was working and studying.  She showed me his artwork, and told me she had asked the children to paint the sky.  Every child painted blue.  My son had painted vivid pink, orange and black.  I was puzzled and asked her what was wrong with the art.  She felt at ease to reprimand me and said if I was less busy, he would know the sky is blue.  Incensed by her lack of understanding and her temerity to say this to a parent, I responded, that if she looked at the sky she would know it wasn’t always blue and, looking around at other children’s artwork, it would appear my son knew more than his peers did.

My son’s art came from a place of experience.  I would study between the hours of 4-7am.  When he woke he would sit at my feet and play with blocks and trains while I took a break and reflected with coffee in a room that faced the Eastern sky.  One morning it was absolutely gorgeous.  I drew his attention and pointed silently to the sky.  His brown eyes wide open and mouth agape he whispered in wonder, “Who did that?”  A priceless moment for a mother.  If only the classroom teacher had experienced this with a child!

Until next time

As always

a dawn bird

In response to Ragtag Daily Prompt:  Busy