Yesterday I went to collect some new cuttings from the basil when, suddenly, we were hit by a rainstorm. Quickly, I took cover under a tree, but wondered would happen to the honey bees.

But thankfully, from where I stood, it looked like all but one had their found cover. So I watched her:

With wobbly flight she navigated the heavy drops of falling water. Sometimes she ducked for cover. Other times she braved the flowers. I was impressed by her persistence. She must’ve really wanted that pollen.

Then, as the rain slowed, I emerged from under the trees, expecting that the other bees would come out with me.

But I became worried when I looked closer and found there were bees stuck to the flowers. Absolutely still, and soaked all-the-way-through, I worried the bees didn’t survive the deluge. Did they drown in the downpour? Did the rain break their wings? Why weren’t these poor little honey bees moving?

Unable to just stand there and watch, I got a little stick to give a gentle prod. I was relieved to find that they did respond. Their antennae moved around to signal their life. But, other than that, they looked stuck in strife.

I didn’t know what to do. I thought about drying them off but didn’t want to injure them in the process. Still, it was hard to walk away and just leave them.

So I blew on their wings but nothing changed. Then I figured I’d just hang out and wait. Maybe this was something they were totally used to. Maybe I was worried for nothing, and just needed to trust what they’d do.

Just have patience Alana- geesh.

So I waited and watched as many minutes passed by, but they stayed still, as if they had died.

Then suddenly I saw something fly! One of the bees had reclaimed their flight!

It was encouraging, but not for long, as right after that, the rain started to fall.

“That’s enough” I decided as the raindrops got bigger. “I’m not gonna watch these bees get wetter.”

So placed my hand next to their bodies, and gave ‘um a nudge to come with me, which they did immediately.

Gently I carried them under the comfrey leaves, which offered a wide and dry covering. Then, as they walked off of my fingers, their wings were unglued from the thick seal of water.

Happily I watched them wobble around, wings up and drying under the shroud.

I was relieved.

Sometimes it’s scary to lend a hand cuz what if I do something wrong? What if it worsens?

Plus it’s not always clear if I should interfere. So often, the best way is to let nature steer.

Still, you’ve shown me that one thing is clear- caring always matters.

Thank you for giving me the courage to trust my compass. With all my heart, I’m at your service.