Bottled Bee


Ever had one of those days when an unknown becomes known, and is insufferable? Well, early this month I had such a day and I had to exercise much self-control to not get biblical on insufferable soul in human form. I speak, of course, of a ‘person’ revealed in an earlier posting, ‘Into the WIND system’.


After, finally securing a favourable outcome to a disturbing issue, I elected to enjoy a much needed repast to satiate the rising hunger and dizziness from the decreasing adrenaline surge of the affair. This occurred upon obtain a ‘jerk pork meal’ accompanied by a bottle of Cream Soda, something occasionally accompanying such an organic meal of my Jamaican origin.



Cream Soda

Cream Soda



While enjoying my repast on a bench, under trees, in an adjoining Parkette, I acquired an unsolicited forager in the form of a bee. Now, this critter would elicit unfair albeit startling reactions from anxious others, but I was content to allow its excursion about the surface of my meal and soda. It kept patrolling my food’s surface but preferred the sweet appeal of my soda. An unwise choice, by my thinking, but it was not in its nature to choose otherwise. After all, the ‘jerk’ spice, although attractive on some level, its sensibilities could not supersede the allure of ‘sugar’. So, it was to find the bottle of soda its target of operations and proceeded it excursion to a surprising turn of events.







Upon exploring and, possibly, securing gleaned nectar for its effort, accidentally slipped in and fell into the liquid it wasn’t intending familiarity. I noticed its demise and wondered about saving its adventurous life. Well, as luck would have it, it seemed for its sake, I was dining with chop-sticks. Something I felt inclined to do on this occasion. To not affect the cram soda’s flavour I licked the wooded stick, removing the jerk sauce, and inserted it into the bottle whereupon the bee was quick to get to and scurry up to safety and fly-away-free! I resumed eating, having a sense of satisfaction in saving-a-life.


Unfortunately, that was not to be the end of it. Less than a few moments later, this Bee returned. I’m certain it was the same one as there were no others around at the time, there was no ‘signalling’ for patrol replacement as the same course of action was resumed. The bottle of cream soda was its continued focus, this time with more cautious movements around the lip of the bottle. I ate, it scouted the rim and lip, then daringly began to extend its range of motion. Eventually, the ‘sweet’ got the better of it, as I neared the end of my meal, and once more if succumbed to lack-of-surface grip and fell into the drink.







This time I wasn’t as quick to secure its freedom and allowed it to struggle a few seconds, which may have seemed interminable for this specie! As I was not intent on it perishing, I inserted the chop stick once more, this time it was not so dry as the first occurrence, but it did acquire the wood’s surface grip and steadily crawled out. It slipped down the side of the bottle onto a portion of the bench on which I sat, fluttered/shuddered to extricate itself before the stickiness took its toll. Eventually, it was dry enough, safe for flight, and took to the air staying aloft while I readied myself to resume my walk home.


I watched it roaming around, becoming stronger until we both completed our due diligence; it clearing its sensibilities I could only presume and I deposited my wastes into the appropriate receptacles and packaging my unfinished portions to take home for later enjoyment. We got our bearings and went on our separate ways, it to its hive and me to mine, engaging with the city’s passing backdrop while I resumed my feeling of satisfaction of having saved-a-life albeit until its naturally/unnaturally scheduled passage, as we all will.







I gather my title may be more accurately titled, ‘Unbottled Bee’ but I’ll keep it for its alliterative tone. In passing, on my way to my writing corner, I was called upon to exercise yet another choice of action by stepping over another struggling Bee on the pavement whereon I walked. What are the odds, eh?


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: