Following the bees' flight

Surely, the fragrance of the flower had sent out a signal to attract the bees, so that each of their tiny, delicate wings, as thin as silk and as light as clouds, would flutter down. The gentle beat of their wings resonated beside the small flower, and my soul soared along with the bees.

Scholar K. Von Frisch once studied the "dance" language, or the dance, of bees. The dance of honeybees is identified as a way for them to communicate and guide their kind to areas with abundant nectar. This illustrates that the dance of the bees' wings is a long journey, carried by the wind, from vibrant, majestic flowers to tiny wildflowers swaying in the morning sun.

From that dance, countless fragrant pollen grains have fulfilled their role as messengers of life. From those delicate wings, shimmering drops of gold are carried to all corners of the world. In blossoming fields, orchards laden with fruit, and golden wax bridges, all offer up a vibrant and joyful life.

Throughout the flow of time, bees and flowers have remained inseparable. Without flowers, bees cannot find the nectar needed to sustain their colonies. This is the exquisite balance of nature. I was quite surprised to read that when a bee flies to find nectar, it flaps its wings 880 times in 2 seconds, and when it has gathered enough nectar and flies back to the hive, it flaps its wings 600 times in 2 seconds. Thus, simply by listening to the sounds they make, one can determine whether the bees are on a journey to find nectar or returning home.

I also thoroughly enjoyed the experience of pulling out a honeycomb, my hands heavy with the thick, dense honey. The golden, viscous honey that dripped down after each extraction shimmered like the crimson sunset over the distant valley.

Each time, I wished I could have a small beehive on my porch, so that every morning I could hear the sound of bees flying home, the gentle flapping of their delicate wings. Those wings would carry the scent of meadows, of sweet childhood dreams, and of the shimmering emotions contained within my heart.

Sometimes, amidst the bustling streets, I suddenly find myself remembering a flower season from years past, the tireless buzzing of bees in the early morning sun. Therefore, I still believe that, in a small corner of my garden, the bees of my memory still linger. There's the little girl from years ago, innocently watching the bees build their nest, waiting for the honey season as if it were a great joy. Or has it all become a memory, fading away like a childhood dream?

Now that she's grown up, the little girl from back then understands that achieving good values requires a long process of hard work and patience; countless flights, countless journeys, countless challenges... Does a bee's life ever rest, never stop? Perhaps that's why the poet Che Lan Vien wrote, "One drop of honey requires a thousand bee flights."

Strangely enough, I always see a remarkable perseverance, steadfastness, and tireless energy emanating from those distant wings. To obtain a spoonful of honey, a bee must fly and collect nectar from 4,000 flowers all over the world. Without needing to use the rule of three, one can easily calculate that to get one spoonful of honey, the bee will make 4,000 trips.

There is no shortest path, no easy flight, for those sweet drops are also the result of patience and arduous trials. Beneath tiny wings, flowers can bear fruit, the harvest will be bountiful, and the shimmering drops of sweetness on branches and in garden corners will continue to flow with the seasons. And nature continues its cycle, following the natural order of the earth and sky.

I recently had the opportunity to visit a bee farm. I quietly observed the neatly arranged wooden hives in the coffee plantation. These are where honey, pollen, and larvae are stored, and where the bees live. When I arrived, a group of workers were busy extracting honey, so I tried a drop of freshly extracted honey. The honey touched my tongue, revealing the scent of distant fields, the lingering memories of mountain migrations, the resonance of past flowering seasons, and the faint glimpse of the tireless journey on their delicate wings.

I quietly watched the bees, realizing their journey was like a voyage out to sea, a breakthrough across the dividing line of human life. We, too, are like bees, leaving our hive, our comfort zone, to confidently confront risks and negativity, bringing us closer to the precious things in life. There are days as peaceful as a calm lake, and stormy days that make us falter, weary, and want to give up. But we must still face the challenges, because we know that ahead awaits us fields of flowers sown with seeds of happiness.

One March day, a gentle breeze blew across the front yard. Bees continued to fly in the wind, persistently and devotedly performing their tireless dance. Perhaps life is like that too: keep going, keep venturing forward, keep persevering, and sweet nectar will await you at the end of the road.

Source: https://baogialai.com.vn/theo-canh-ong-bay-post316486.html