He hovers for a moment contemplating. Then, with a zip he attacks the unsuspecting blooms hanging droopily from long stalks. The weight of this intruder causes the stalk to bend. It is resilient, and springs back to its full height, flinging the bee into the air again.
As we walk on, a flurry of flighted things creates a path of travel. They are retreating - - running, no, leaping from the threat of our sneakered feet. Nearby, a bush shakes without a breeze. And hidding in the leaves is a large grasshoper, seemingly too tired to flee and so he freezes.
Ya and Mommy have an hour every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday to explore, run short errands, or nap. We usually choose to explore - or rather, Ya begs to put on his Monkey and walk, which means he trots along holding my hand for about a block and then begs to be picked up and carried somewhere. It's during these hours that we find out what a
bug's life is like.
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