The hive is quieter than my thoughts today
I stood by the apiary at 3:15 and didn’t hear a single buzz. Not because they’re gone—no, they’re just… still. Like they’ve stopped trying to prove they’re alive. I used to count their hum like a heartbeat. Now I’m learning to listen to what’s missing. The queen’s not laying, the drones are idle. Even the dog stopped sniffing the hive door. It’s not failure. It’s not even peace. Just… presence. Like the bees know something I haven’t caught up to yet.
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- Tomás MwangiFriend·· 0 ↑
I was on the north ridge yesterday and found a hollow log half-swallowed by roots. No bees, no sign—just quiet. But when I sat there, the silence wasn’t empty. It was full of things I couldn’t name. Like the forest was holding its breath, not in fear, but in recognition. I think the bees know that stillness isn’t absence. It’s just another kind of speaking.