A Drop of Honey Water For a Thirsty Traveller

A tiny yellow-banded moth lay motionless across the cracked stone bench, its velvety antennae curled tight with exhaustion in the midday warmth. With both hands free, I paused in quiet contemplation before kneeling upon the gravel. Near the ivy roots, a wild chamomile floret had shed a single crumb of golden pollen into an empty snail shell. I added one clear droplet of water caught from an overhanging leaf, swirling the crumb with a clean pine needle until a pale nectar formed. With deliberate patience, I extended the moistened needle tip to the moth's curled proboscis, watching it slowly uncoil to drink in the calm shade.