Kona soaked up the sun this afternoon, but she kept a watchful eye on me.
It started earlier. We were on a run on Kona's favorite trail. It was a take-it-easy kind of morning, so Kona and I kept an eye out for exploring opportunities. At the end of our long descent, I decided to detour to the bee find that we discovered several weeks ago.
I was excited to see nearly a dozen new bee boxes, and a handful of active bees flying around them. I have a romantic fixation on bee keeping. Not sure where it comes from, but it drew me to the new boxes.
I wanted to see if colonies had made homes in the boxes. They were all duct taped closed, so I bent down to listen. I put my head down to one of the boxes and squished my ear on the sanded wood. I expected to hear the strong, low hum of working bees down in the box.
Instead, I heard a loud, sharp buzz of something much closer. The sound got louder. I jumped up, hands waving frantically. The bees were after me. I took several running strides away from the boxes, batting my hands around my face while trying to talk some sense into myself. "AC, bees are rarely aggressive. There's no way you're being chased down trail by a swarm of mad bees. No AC, there are no killer bees anywhere near here. No, there's no water to jump into to save yourself. Besides, Kona doesn't swim and she's attached to you."
The buzz got louder.
I stopped running, but had no control of my frantic, swatting arms. As my knee-jerk flight response settled, I realized the buzz was coming from a single bee. But why was it still following me? And why was it so loud? Alright, my capacity to reason began to return. The bee was loud because it was right by my ear. (More frantic arm swatting.) OK, it's not chasing me, it's stuck in my hair. (Started running again.)
In a desperate attempt to free the trapped bee, I yanked my hair out of its ponytail and started head banging. (Think Led Zeppelin concert.) When that didn't work, I added the head shake, followed by the head swirl.
I suddenly remembered that I was on a public trail. I lifted my head enough to make sure no one was watching me. As I peered through my disheveled strands, I spotted him. The bee sat right at my eye level. I carefully parted my hair and used a finger to free the buzzing insect. Off he flew.
I flipped my hair back and stood upright. Kona was at the very end of her line. Eyes wide, ears back, head cocked to the side. I don't think my hair show impressed her.