Diligent Bee Live Wallpaper

Building the hive, the workers have the look of embryonic cells organizing a developing tissue; from a distance they are like the viruses inside a cell, running off row after row of symmetrical polygons as though laying down crystals.

The bee hive looked stood on stout wooden legs, not much more than a sawn off stump on each corner. The rest was a box painted cream, which now had that fashionable distressed look all the fancy stores are imitating these days. But this paint had been beaten by the elements for a decade or more and had every right to it's worn patches showing an undercoating of blue. Inside were the rows of honeycomb in removable trays, each one containing the delicate golden hexagons. On top was a lid made to look like a pitched roof and from a hole on the side the workers buzzed merrily in and out.

Bee removal has been my job since before most folks leave high-school. To the folks that call me they're a menace, but to me they'll always be my six-legged friends. Where would our ecosystems be without the honey bees? I take in the smoke machine and pump it until they are good and drunk, moving in slow motion. They I take them away to a new life if one of my hives, to do what nature intended in a place that won't bother folks.

There are nights I dream of their buzzing, of the flashing of their wings. That might sound like a nightmare to some, but to me it's the calling of my soul. I rescue them, bring them home. That makes me weird I know, but it takes all sorts to make a world turn around and we can't all be straight pegs.

Bees are holding a friend's hand as you walk through the clover-rich grass, knowing that she will keep you safe from stingers. Bees are seeing black and yellow in the garden, becoming a statue so they won't notice, and hearing nature in its closest form because you accidentally took a moment to listen. Bees are the watermelons that drip cold juice down your chin in the summer and the blossoms that make them. They are the flowers you give to your lover and the hum in grassy fields. These pollinators may sting, but they do honey-sweet things for us.