I spoke to the bees today.
It was the 68th day of lockdown, and hot.
There was little family news:
no births; thankfully no more deaths.
No departures of note, no long voyages.
I had settled by the campanula,
given that we do not have a hive,
and they seem to like the purple flowers as much as I.
There were one or two of the traditional recipients,
but mainly the smaller bumbles.
Buff-bottomed and bustling, they seemed indifferent.
Of course, we all have our own concerns.
Nonetheless, I felt they would not have signed any petitions to save us.
By Sarah Ziman