This story was inspired by an illustration from Yelena Wysling, a Swiss artist I follow on Instagram.
​Her work is simply beautiful.

Here we sit beneath our tree,
​Bee and Flea and me. Just we three.
Wondering, waiting to see what the day will bring.
A flower blooms. We dive right in. Pollen covers legs and chins. The smell is glorious. We all grin.
Bee and Flea and me. Just we three.
A soft, cool breeze begins to blow. We hear the trees sing soft and low, as leaves sway gently to and fro.
Bee and Flea and me. Just we three.
Raindrops fall but we are dry. They stop. A rainbow fills the sky. The colours fill our hearts. We sigh.
Bee and Flea and me. Just we three.
Standing on the grass so green, our footprints tell us where we’ve been. Toes feel cool and fresh and clean.
Bee and Flea and me. Just we three.
Before we go, in fading light, we thank our tree and hug it tight, then hug each other with all our might.
Bee and Flea and me. Just we three.
Turning homeward, hand in hand, we chat about tomorrow’s plan to sit again beneath our tree.
Bee and Flea and me. Just we three.
Wondering, waiting to see what the day will bring.

Okay so you must know by now how much I love bees! My two favourites are the humble Bumblebee and the Australian native bee. Here's a story about two bumblebees just pitched in the February #PBPitch event. Artwork by my extremely talented friend Maryam Khalifah. You can follow Maryam on Instagram and Twitter.

‘Good point.’ Barry scratched his fuzzy, black and yellow chin. ‘Why not a beetle then? They also have wings like us, and they come in lots of different colours too!’ Boris looked stunned. ‘Really? A beetle? You want to roll dung all day instead of sipping nectar and gathering pollen? Uh-uh, not me!’ snorted Boris. ‘Okay, okay. I get it,’ Barry replied, a little miffed. ‘Ah-ha! I’ve got it! I want to be . . .  wait for it,’ Barry grinned, and pretended to give a drumroll on his tiny, black knees. Boris rolled his eyes as he waited for Barry’s big revelation. ‘I want to be – a dragonfly!’ he announced.

Boris threw his hands in the air and shook his head. ‘A dragonfly?! That doesn’t even start with the letter B!’
Barry’s bottom lip started to quiver. He looked like he was about to cry. Boris put one of his arms around Barry. ‘Look,’ he said, ‘all those insects are wonderful. They are beautiful, useful and amazing in their own ways, but think about what we bumblebees can do! Instead of Superman, think Superbee!’ Barry looked at Boris, and wiped away a small tear.  

We are Super-pollinaters!’ Boris cried excitedly, pulling Barry along as he buzzed up to a lavender stalk. ‘We gather lots of pollen from flowers and spread it around to help plants grow.’ ‘We are Super-see-ers! We have five eyes, which means we see yummy nectar before any of the other insects,’ he continued proudly, as they flew to a marigold. Barry followed along, nodding thoughtfully. ‘We are Super-royal! We have a majestic and beautiful queen,’ Boris bowed low as they paused on a snapdragon, and placed a makeshift crown on Barry’s head.

‘And you know what my two most favourite things are about being a Super-bee?’ They had stopped at a bunch of pansies. Barry shook his head. ‘We make yummy honey. . . aaaand we do the waggle dance!’ Boris laughed as he began circling around Barry, waggling his small bee bottom. Barry giggled.  ‘You’re right,’ he grinned, as he joined Boris in his waggle dance. ‘Bee-ing a bee is SUPER-AMAZING! I never want to bee anything else!’