The bee
I almost stepped on the bee. It almost happened.
- Stop! — he yelled. To be more precise, he didn’t exactly yell. He spoke loudly with an unmistakable sense of urgency. His voice filled out the whole space in the hot springs temple.
- Watch out! — he yelled again.
At this point, my right foot was already frozen in the air, placed just a couple of centimeters above the bee. I was relaxed. Just emerged from the cold plunge session that I enjoyed dearly. The bee was slowly moving on the cold, stone floor covered with sulfur water. I bend my right knee and lean towards the bee. She was calm. I slowly stuck out my index finger in her direction. My hand stopped a couple of millimeters from the bee. Now, the bee could reach my index finger if she wanted. She did. The bee clime on my hand. I rose slowly with the bee sitting on my index finger and directed the two of us toward the outside area. I stopped in the first safe place, where the bee would not be in danger of being killed by heavy human bodies. I raised my hand and blew in her direction. She did nothing, just holed strongly to my finger. Then, I quickly moved my hand toward the ground. It worked. The bee flew away.
It was a sunny, blue-sky day. One of these slow Sundays when everything is just in the right place. I get back to the bathing area to warm myself in the hot tap.
He was still there and seemed to be following my movements. His eyes were wide open.
- Animal whisperer.
