Purple. A lovely scent. Very intense. I settle on her, she is so soft. Her color surrounds me. She surrounds me. I bow to her and let myself sink further and further onto her. I become a part of her. I always felt more alive there than at home. Happier. Every touch was a bath of nectar, a bath of love. A give and take. Gentle.
Blue. A milder scent. She is smooth and I gently lean down to her. Suck on her first to strengthen myself and then go about my business. While the sun shines down on me, filling the entire field with so much color that I’m sure no one but me has ever seen anything so magnificent. Nature in all its colors. And I realize again how much I love being on the road, here in the middle of it all.
Home. I put down the honey first, as always. And the golden honey becomes more and more and more. Our food, our supply, our life, our elixir of life. I am surrounded by beauty all day and yet nothing is more beautiful than being at home.
A new day.
Home. Many are like gathered. More than usual. I flutter over the crowd to see what is causing the mass gathering. Focused, I survey the swarm. And then I see it. One is dancing. All attention is focused, as it often is, on her movements. She dances with conviction, full of verve. It is impossible not to watch her. She presents a route. She dances it over and over and over again. I watch her movements. It has rarely been as quiet at home as it is now. It’s as if everyone is trying to stop their wings from making any noise that would distract from the dance. Their movements glide together to form a map. A new field, I think. The excitement. I am gripped by anticipation. New patterns, smells, textiles.
A new day.
I immediately set about re-flying the route. It’s a longer way than usual, but I’m invigorated and the excitement drives me forward. And then I see it. A huge field as far as the eyes can see. It looks so perfectly arranged that I am briefly confused, any trace of the maze-like tangle of the other fields is missing. It looks almost fake. Almost like the plants made of weird materials in little gardens on the way home that I can’t sprinkle. I move cautiously down to my new discovery. Glide through the rows and am almost overcome by the attraction the purple flowers have on me. First, I sprinkle the entire row. Then I settle on one of the fluffy purple plants. I notice a new and different smell that is unfamiliar to me. I try to classify it, or associate it with something else, but don’t manage it. The nectar also has a different taste. Darker. I want more of it zzz and more zzzz and more zzz and more. I collect more than I have in a long time. I forget the time, ignore the sun, ignore the fatigue. Ignore everything but the unifying taste and smell of the flowers.
ZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…And then, I can’t. It come suddenly. A fainting fit. I land on the floor. Confused. I try to recover under the shade of the leaves. I stay like this for a while. I don’t know how long. I have lost all feeling. I see the sun, but do not understand it. It begins to sink slowly. I don’t think I’ve ever been out this late before. I try to rise again and again and again, It seems impossible. As if I am rooted in the ground.
zzzzzzzzz….But then I make it. I feel heavy for the first time. Heavy, heavier, heaviest. Every wing beat demands my total concentration.
zzzzzzz…And then something even worse happens. I. Can. Not. Remember. The. Way. Home. No, no, no, NO. I try to remember the sister’s movements. nothing. And again. nothing. And again. nothing. ZZZZ. It is not possible. I feel like lo zzz s zzz t. I’m sitting on the ground. I zzz am lost. I am zzz lost. I am lost zzz. I zzz am zzz lost zzzz. Ex zzz haus zzzz ted, lost. Zzz fo zzz ggy .I zz will never zzzz make it home like zzz this. I will never make it home. Never again.