I remember playing outside barefoot when I was a little girl. I remember this with a twinge of PTSD creeping through my feet and up into my spine. Why? Because I remember getting stung. I remember this happening frequently.
When I wasn’t being stung by the bees, I was lying on my stomach watching the white clover flowers giggle as the bees landed on them.
I don’t remember when I stopped seeing the bees, but I do remember seeing less and less.
As I was writing at the picnic table a few weeks ago, I noticed a bee on a white clover flower. Then, I noticed another. And, another.
This was the first time I had seen more than one bee at a time in years! I sat there and watched them dance on the flowers.
It was all very nostalgic and calming. I imagine this was mostly because I was wearing proper shoes, so I had no need to worry about accidentally getting stung.