February 5, 2017
I know people who scoff at what they call the “tree huggers” of the world (those of us who do all we can to fully understand and protect our earth), people who say, “Why spend so much time, effort, and money to preserve this location to keep and protect that one little frog here, when we can relocate it there?” Well, if we do that with everything all the time (so that humans can have what they want, where they want it, when they want it), eventually there won’t be enough “there” left. None-the-less, preserving what is necessary for our earth to continue must be done at all costs, even if we are forced to relocate a species for its survival.
In this dream, I went on a tour of a large estate home, similar to Hearst Castle, with meticulously manicured grounds, and elegant interiors.
While walking through the estate, I overheard another visitor complaining about a beehive on her own property. She didn’t care if the bees were killed. To her, all that mattered was that they were gone. She droned on and on about it.
Finally, I had heard enough. I couldn’t keep quiet. “Do you, or someone in your family have an allergy to bees?”
“No,” she responded flatly. “I just want them gone. If they have to be killed to remove them, then let them die.”
“Hmm, I see,” I said trying to be understanding, though I didn’t really understand. “Well, I will find a way to remove the bees for you,” I told her. “They are too important to our planet to kill them needlessly. I will have them relocated so they will be protected.”
Grudgingly, and a bit apprehensively she agreed.
Her home was in a rural area, and located on an acre of land; plenty of space for the bees to be left to their own natural subsistence. They weren’t aggressive (Africanized) bees, or even near the house itself; rather they were in a tree toward the back of her property, nearly 700 feet away.
For an unknown reason, I had the bees relocated to the top of a very tall pine tree on my own property. Better than killing them I thought. I just hoped they wouldn’t be constantly flying in and out of my house. Especially because they were so attracted to the humming bird feeder that hung outside the kitchen window.
During the removal and relocation process, a bee got tangled up in a tuft of windblown hair on top of my head. The trapped and frightened bee stung the top of my scalp. Ouch. No real harm done, I thought, though I was sad at the thought this little bee would die. Still, it was better than killing the lot of them.
I woke with a humble sense of satisfaction that I had done my part to keep our bee population thriving.
P.S. I would like to hear from you. Please be sure to share your thoughts and dreams in the comments below.