OrlandoBee CompanyFiction
Made-up on purpose. If a hive, street, or person is missing from a source page, treat it as fiction. Spanish needles, cabbage palm, and the August dearth are the real weather under the sentences.
The scout left the hive before the buses. She flew a straight line toward water because water is a meeting place, and Lake Eola is a bright dish in the middle of town.
She did not care about the fountain. She cared about a lime tree in a yard that still had flowers. She danced the map when she got home. Nobody clapped. They just went.
August in Orlando is a wet blanket. The foragers still leave. They come back heavier, or they come back with nothing, and the dark inside the hive smells like work.
A worker died on the landing board. Another one dragged her out. That is the house rule. It is not cruel in bee. It is how the house stays a house.
Someone left a jar on a porch with the lid off, “for the bees.” Ants found it first. Then wasps. The honey bees walked a circle around the sticky ring and went back to a palmetto that was actually blooming.
If you want to help, plant something that flowers. A lidless jar is a story about good intentions.