Dream of a Bee
May. 12th, 2007 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
perzephone
Right before I was supposed to wake up, I dreamt a bee stung me. It was sitting on a pot lid in the kitchen and I tried to shoo it out the door, but it deliberately flew down and stung me on the hip. I tried to catch it in the folds of my dress but it had stung me and was dying before I could stop it. I stood in the kitchen & started crying - not that the sting hurt much, but because of the suicide, repeating over & over again, "Why did you sting me?"
Sorry, Ariadne, I spoke of snakes and poppies, of pomegranates and the Bull from the Sea. I forgot to mention your bees and the melissae. I won't forget again.
If we ever do move to Washington, I will have bees in the garden. Without bees there is no mead, or poppy cakes or the bliss in fields of flowers.
When I was very little, I was afraid of bees. It's probably because my mother was deathly allergic to them. One time, we were in the car waiting for my dad to finish checking his truck into the truck yard, & I was sitting on her lap so she could brush my hair. There was a bee on the armrest of the car that no one saw, but my mother put her arm down on it, and it stung her. She threw me out of the car, trying to get someone's attention before she passed out or stopped breathing, already clutching at her throat & turning red in the face. After that day, I would run screaming from bees, hornets, wasps, you name it. As far as I was concerned they were killers. But I got stung a few times, realized it didn't hurt that bad (except yellowjackets, but yellowjackets sting in groups, and they don't die when they sting you - they can keep that up for some time before they get bored or find a target with fewer holes), and I've never been allergic to them.
Bees are important and necessary. I love bumblebees, fat black furry bees. No one ever told them they weren't supposed to be able to fly.
Sorry, Ariadne, I spoke of snakes and poppies, of pomegranates and the Bull from the Sea. I forgot to mention your bees and the melissae. I won't forget again.
If we ever do move to Washington, I will have bees in the garden. Without bees there is no mead, or poppy cakes or the bliss in fields of flowers.
When I was very little, I was afraid of bees. It's probably because my mother was deathly allergic to them. One time, we were in the car waiting for my dad to finish checking his truck into the truck yard, & I was sitting on her lap so she could brush my hair. There was a bee on the armrest of the car that no one saw, but my mother put her arm down on it, and it stung her. She threw me out of the car, trying to get someone's attention before she passed out or stopped breathing, already clutching at her throat & turning red in the face. After that day, I would run screaming from bees, hornets, wasps, you name it. As far as I was concerned they were killers. But I got stung a few times, realized it didn't hurt that bad (except yellowjackets, but yellowjackets sting in groups, and they don't die when they sting you - they can keep that up for some time before they get bored or find a target with fewer holes), and I've never been allergic to them.
Bees are important and necessary. I love bumblebees, fat black furry bees. No one ever told them they weren't supposed to be able to fly.
