It was back in the mid-80s when Bea began her life. It began like all bees: glued to the bottom on a hexigonally-shaped wax cup, deep in the warm shelter of the brood nest, tended to by young sterile nurses. Eventually, as all eggs must, she hatched into a squishy colorless blob, full of mystery and potential. Unsure of what path she might take, these young nurses scraped enough jelly from their faces to sustain her, and quickly sealed her cell in the hopes that she could grow into a contributing member of society, and not some parasite addled destructor. So, they hoped, and waited, watching for signs of what sort of Bea should would become.
There, in the darkness, she brooded. Is it any wonder that so surrounded by the sour and sweet food of her royal jelly that she too became so sweet and sour? With all this time to herself, she was free to contemplate everything her heart desired, to explore the world through mental gymnastics! But alas, her mind and the universe were small. The world as she knew it consisted mostly of her, but still small as she was, she had room to wiggle and waggle, and try as she might she just couldn't reach the edges. Away from the socializing influence of her hive-mates, she came to know herself, and know what she was worth, in this capped capsule that had only her.
Eventually, she had to push herself to grow. Miracle and miracles, she pupated! She was at last the ghostly specter of the bee she would grow into. The shape of herself was in place, but still soft and small and not ready to see the world outside. Again, a miracle! She shed a former version of herself, and became even bigger and stronger and more like the bee she was destined to become, gaining color and edges. Again and again, she did this becoming more and more herself, until finally, she was able to break free! She burst forth from the fragile boundaries of her make-shift nursery.
The world she found was not the world she had hoped for. All that time spent in her own mind, imaging and thinking and dreaming, the hive was dark and simple by comparison. Though the other bees seemed exactly like her on the surface, their world too was small, too the same. Every bee had a job and function, fitting neatly into their boxes. Where was the chance to play, to be other animals, to stuff shirts, to try on different hats? They tried to teach her about their world, giving her their explanations of the outside, promising that some day, when they thought her ready, she could go outside, and then she would see it their way. Some day, she'd be like them. Oh, no! This simply would not do! "Be one of us!" They encouraged, "Do what is best for us! Then you'll be happy!" Bea waited, still in the darkness of hive, to learn, to see, and to know. Eventually, Bea learned that the darkness of the hive, even though it was bigger than the darkness of her nursery, was still too dark.
So, finally, when Bea's wings were strong enough and she was courageous enough, she left the hive, to learn and explore, going as far as Texas, where everything is bigger, to find what sustains her. There, though she might be done pupating, Bea continues to grow and expand, foraging, decorating herself with everything she touches, finally in the sunlight.
And we, back in the hive, hope she'll return, bringing some of that light to us, so we can capture it, preserving it forever, making it the honey that will hopefully see us through the dark.
