A Drop of Honey Water for a Thirsty Bee π
A tired bumblebee lay grounded along the warm grit of the flagstone path, its velvet fur dusty and its wings motionless against the heat. Stepping closer with measured patience, I knelt quietly on the stones. With both hands free, I gathered a fallen blossom from the overhanging honeysuckle and pressed its sweet, pale stem between my fingertips until a single clear drop of nectar welled up inside an upturned poppy seed capsule. I dipped the slender tip of a dry grass stem into the drop and extended it toward the bee's bowed head. In moments, its dark tongue reached out to drink, gaining back its quiet strength.

