...beez

...I remember, growing up, just a few miles from here. The sunshine. The fresh air. the backyard littered with clover, with hundreds of bees happily hopping around. Honey bees, Bumble bees. Occasionally, nasty looking wasps with pointy bottoms. All of them ignoring me. I must have been four, or five. The joy of being alive along with other things that were alive. That was my world that day, awash in the colors of new, and pain, newly discovered, trying to touch one. I remember it clearly, and in a blur. My love for the world was boundless, and the bee sting just a part of it. Part of me is in that day, that memory, and that is one of the reasons why I'm worried about the bees. Not just the bees, of course. But they are symptomatic of the ills that befall us. That belief, the belief of the very, very young in the adults around us is no longer enough. We were mistaken. The good people, who might have been in charge - have been supplanted by greedy, heartless pigs. The environment of our blue, blue earth, so pristine only a short time ago, in real danger of collapse. We move across it, an increasing tide of locusts, stripping it of life and potential. It is time once again, to connect with who we used to be, before we were buried under micro-plastic and nicotine. Really buried. As in dead, along with everything else.