There are clouds upon clouds of honeybees in our yard. They cover the rosemary lining our walkway, the coyote bush next to the front stairs, and the blooming ivy outside our living room window. Give more than a casual glance and you'll see that the plants' surfaces are alive, moving, humming, mesmerizing. I sat on the steps for a good long time, shut my eyes, and just tuned in. Soothes my vain little heart to think of how many bee dances were done in our honor over the weekend.

I am feeling particularly malicious this evening. Beware.

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