Honey Bee Down
So there I was, minding my own business... Well, actually, I wasn't minding my own business.
I was in my backyard checking on the resident garden spiders. I've been watching them and learning by observation, but that's a story for another blog post.
A honey bee was caught in one of the older, tattered spider webs. He struggled to break free as he wiggled his legs against the confining threads. I took a quick look around, it seemed this spider web was abandoned. Or, so I convinced myself.
I understand the law of nature. If a spider already had the honey bee and was munching away, I would lament, "Oh pooh. Score 1 for the spider, 0 for the honey bee. Poor honey bee."
Since there was no spider in sight and none moving in for the kill, I decided to interfere.
Help Has Arrived
I spied a forlorn leaf and scooped the bee out of the sticky threads. He was pitiful, unable to fly. He could barely walk as he fell this way and that on the leaf.
I remembered the sugar-water-on-a-spoon honey bee remedy that I saw on Pinterest. A way to help a honey bee that was exhausted and far from home. It seemed a little far-fetched, but I pinned it on the off chance it might come in handy.
Now was the moment.
I carried the leaf holding the honey bee back to the house. I briefly thought about bringing him inside, then changed my mind. If he had a sudden recovery and started flying about, we'd have another problem of how to get him back out safely. I set him down on the patio next to my sliding glass door.
I bolted into the kitchen and grabbed my sugar container. I poured a spoonful of sugar in a small bowl, added warm tap water, and stirred to dissolve the granules. I stepped back outside to find my honey bee still lying there. He was constantly falling over as he tried to walk. I maneuvered the spoon in front of him. He held on to its edge. He appeared to take a long drink. Or was he just holding on? Hard for me to tell.
He pushed off from the spoon and staggered about on the patio. He fell into a concrete seam and couldn't get out, I helped him up with the leaf.
He was still staggering and falling over. I was worried. Perhaps I would simply bear witness to his demise. But then, he started to preen himself, cleaning his little antennae. Surely this was a good sign?
After more cleaning, he lied down, tucked in his tiny wings and bowed his head. I swear he took a nap. I know honey bees sleep, having seen photos of it (on Pinterest again). Maybe he even had a miniature honey bee dream when he gave a tiny jerk.
This had to be encouraging, since I usually saw dead bees with their wings open. On the other hand, maybe he was bowing his head as he prepared to die.
He awakened, legs started moving again. He was stronger, less staggering. Another careful cleaning of his legs and antennae. I wondered if he needed more sugar water and placed the spoon in front of him. Nope, he didn't want it. I retreated with my spoon, watching.
He buzzed his wings. Now it really seemed like a good sign. He walked forward with determination. He buzzed again. Suddenly, he lifted straight up and flew away into the blue sky.
Honey bee rescue accomplished.
The Smallest Amongst Us
Moral of the story: some things on Pinterest really do work.
Students of The Radiance Technique® (TRT®) can combine a love of nature with their use of TRT®. A student of The First Degree of TRT® could support the honey bee with TRT® hands-on by holding their hand an inch or two above the bee. Students of The Second Degree of TRT® can direct energy as they have been taught in their classes.
With TRT® you have access to universal energy. This allows you to deepen your awareness of nature and open your heart to appreciate the many expressions of life here on planet Earth.
The first image is from the fable: The Spider and The Honey Bee