Why me?" I ask. They stare back with dark,
liquid eyes, the sun illuminating their golden hair. "Someone
famous would be better," I add.
"True," they reply, "but you are a
good listener and we are in such danger. Bring them in, young and
old. Bring them into our home and our life. Tell our stories; reveal
our history. If they know us, they will love us. If they love us,
they will help us. Welcome them into our family before it is too
late. Survival is at stake. Theirs as well as ours, and so few of
them know it."
"Where do I begin?" I inquire, daunted by
"Letís begin with a birth," they answer.
"That is a very good place to start."
This worries me. "Can we hold their interest?
Will they stay for the flying and hunting and fighting?"
"That," they answer, "is your job.
Our story has everything: danger, romance and adventure, comedy,
tragedy. We think this is a good story, and no
one loves a good story more than we do. Tell it true, and let it go.
We have no time to lose. We are disappearing from the face of the
I watch them leave, flying in wingtip to wingtip
formation, very unusual behavior for Honeybees. But then, they
really are extraordinary creatures.