Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Poor Little Guy


Although I readily and summarily dispatch with impunity to the appropriate level (based on degree of invasiveness) of insect hell those creeping or flying things that happen to invade my personal space, especially indoors, when in the great outdoors* I prefer to allow God’s little creatures to go about doing their buggy things in peace.

Thus, it was, this morning while riding about on the scooter, that I found my heart breaking for the small bee that’s never going to make it back to his hive because unbeknownst to either of us he was on a collision course that would lead him directly into the path of my helmet.  He smacked into it with a pronounced thunk and bounced off onto the crook of my left elbow where he promptly in great confusion plunged his small stinger into the same area where for the past four days I’d been picked and prodded with needles during my hospital stay.  I flicked him off me hastily and pulled his tiny barb  from my flesh as quickly as I could.

I don’t think much venom got inside me because the pain was brief and my skin didn’t swell, but I felt terrible for the poor little guy, losing his life merely because he happened to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.  I’m certain that he didn’t have a thought process like, “Oh!  This guy’s helmet hit me so I’m going to sting him,” going through his small brain.  His act of suicide was totally accidental  I don’t know if they’ll remember him at the hive or do anything to immortalize him for his giving all he had to give, but if I’m watching Jeopardy later and scratching my elbow furiously I’ll be sure to toast his memory with whatever sweet libation I happen to be enjoying.  Perhaps some mead.  It would seem fitting.


 Not the actual bee of whom I write.  Just a random bee in a picture I took in 1997 when digital photography as we've come to know it was still in its infancy.

*I use “great outdoors” loosely.  Generally, I don’t consider being out of my recliner in the living room all that great, unless I’m scootering.

3 comments:

kz1000st said...

Ouch! I hate bees. I got nailed by a Yellow Jacket working in the yard recently. It stung. I always wear a jacket when I ride. Even a light one might have helped save you from pains.

Steve Williams said...

I've managed to get through the warm season without a single bee, wasp or hornet in my helmet. That may be the first time. I've learned over the years to grit my teeth, stay calm and hope I can bring the scooter to a halt and get the helmet off before being stung. The first few times I sort of lost myself to panic and caused some stings.

Was riding through Williamsport recently and thought of you. The ride wasn't planned otherwise I may have invited you to lunch.

Hope all is well.

Joe said...

All is well, Steve. Thanks! I'd love to have lunched with you in Williamsport. If you're coming out again with a plan, please let me know!

-Joe