Busy Bees They Are

In the darkness, when the stars flood the heavens, there are unknown things that prowl the night. The heavens bathe sandstone outcroppings and the landscape in soft, faint, interstellar glow. Coyote laughter disturbs the silence. The border collie begins barking wildly into the black, waking you from sleep. The coyotes head up the dry wash past the ranch house, chanting and singing an ancient song. The clamor grows faint until nothing is heard, while the wind softly carries an aroma of juniper and wet sage from off of higher plateaus. Earlier that day, a small sprinkle of rain was powerful enough to release the sweet smells of desert flora.

While the darkness grows thicker and the heavens deeper, there is a celebration going on. They work feverishly and tirelessly, moving in and out of unknown channels. Those cobweb networks are teaming with life, and they are busy bees, they are… Can you barely hear the noise, when alone in your camp? Do you see a faint glow from the mountain-side? Maybe it was just a mere shimmer of light… or it was nothing at all. Do you care to venture into the abyss?

Comments

  1. I think this is a good post!

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