One morning this week I awoke to a loud buzzing. Before I opened my eyes it was almost as if I could feel the syncopated vibration of thousands of tiny wings inside my head. A second before I opened my eyes I somehow knew I was not in my bed. When I opened my eyes I found myself in a forest clearing about the size of a football field, rounded wider at one end. I was on my back with a cool, mossy stone for a pillow, and hovering inches away, above me, was the most beautiful flower I have ever seen. As I focused, I reaized it was a swarm of bees; brightly colored in the traditional yellow and black, but also in varying shades and intensities of red, purple, blue, white, orange, and green. The blacks and whites were predominant toward the center and the colors extended outward, with those more pale and muted nearer to the center, and the most vibrant and intense around the edges. I was not afraid as I reached up and through the swarm creating a funnel effect extending upwards around my arm. Not a single bee landed or even so much as brushed my arm with the tip of a wing. When I removed my arm, the bees resettled and the flower reformed. I experimented with this movement, at varying speeds and with everything from a single finger to a quick leg kick. Each time it was the same. I could feel their harmony and their communal nature.

I stood and the swarm shifted to a few inches in front of me, just below my chest. Looking down at this angle I noticed that the swarm had no depth. It was a perfect single layer, seemingly with each bee equidistant from each surrounding bee. I turned my back and with the swarm behind me, took several quick steps backward. As best as I could tell, it moved with me and remained the same few inches behind me; and I am confident that it retained it's perfect shape and form. Almost without thinking I stood rigid and fell backward into the swarm, somehow knowing what would happen. As I fell (it seemed in slow motion) the swarm repositioned and gently caught me. Now holding me aloft, we stayed in this position for several moments and then gently began to move. We were slow and steady at first and just a couple of feet off the ground, but then we gained both velocity and altitude. It was exhilarating and peaceful at the same time. I'm not sure I was even breathing, but I'm also not sure I needed to. It was as if the swarm and I were breathing as one.

As they carried me throughout the day, (at times over the treetops and at times hovering on the tops of meadow-seas of flowers) they did not seem to tire and I never doubted their ability to keep me safe and comfortable. I remember thinking more than once that the day seemed to stretch infinitely before me, but looking back it seems to have went by quickly; too quickly.

Near dusk we returned to the clearing where we began. I understood an expectant sense from the swarm and (though reluctant to do so) I prepared myself to be returned to my worldly dreams. Moments later the swarm tilted, depositing me feet first in my meadow. I took a seat next to last night's pillow. The swarm hovered for a moment directly above my head and then gently lowered itself to my shoulders, parting as it lowered, to where I could feel the tickle of thousands of tiny wings on my head, face, and neck. Then, those bees directly above my shoulders landed and were (for the first time) still. They stayed that way for a few moments, lifted themselves to rejoin the swarm, then the whole rotated and more bees landed. It was a choreographic wonder. This continued until (I assume) all the bees had their rest. Or perhaps they were saying good-bye. Or perhaps they were communicating another message.

As they lifted away, again brushing me with their wings, I laid my head back on the cool, mossy stone, and as I watched them gain altitude and move away, I found sleep. When I woke again I was in my bed, and again, I was dreaming sad and wondrous dreams of this world.

I believe that the wonder and beauty of this day will influence many days and dreams to come. I believe I will hear the thrumming syncopation of thousands of tiny wings for many days and dreams to come. Some may say the flower-swarm of bees is the dream. I am not so sure ...