I feel so comfortable in my suit. Encased and padded, I am warm but not uncomfortably so. In this cocoon, I am closer to my body, closer to my thoughts. I can hear and feel my blood rushing in my ears. My inner sound is accompanied by the buzzing outside. My tiny workmates are a loud chorus, rising and falling, their sound hits me in waves.
I remember the first time I heard that sound. I had been walking in the woods on the family farm. One of my friends was having a birthday party in town but I was being punished for failing my Biology exam. I had to stay on the property. Lucky for me, I had a few hundred acres to work with. I was exploring a new section of the woods when I heard a buzzing sound. I followed the sound and came upon a nest in a tree. I got as close as I could. The nest was hanging about a metre above my head. The bees were busy, flying to and fro. I was in the midst of them, and a strange feeling washed over me. I felt like I could hear them, what they were thinking. Wordlessly they communicated diligence, determination, family and loyalty. I felt like I had found where I belong.
I never failed a Biology exam again. As soon as I could, I began training to become an apiarist. This is my life: looking after bees, selling honey, helping remove colonies from people’s houses, educating people on bees, honey and everything in between. Sometimes, when I’m lying in bed at night, the blood pulsing in my ears does not sound like a fluid rushing, it sounds like a buzz.
