When in the office (which I’m still not, hoorah! but they might make me return tomorrow) I go for walks round the parking lot and see bees. Not lots of bees, but some bees, some staggering around on the asphalt in confused wandering circles, some twitching, some dead. It’s obvious what’s wrong with the second two types, but the first type has been a mystery. Those bees are obviously stuck in a bee rut, cut off on a neglected whorl of the bee decision flow chart with their little bee heads full of sadness and incorrect dance steps.
Today there were a bunch of bees clustered around the mud I was creating for work. They were doing the same kind of bee circles as the bees on the parking lot, but weren’t stuck at all; they were drinking! Are we confusing the bees with our modern-style pavements? The mud was dark with light gravel flecks, similar to some asphalt. It seems dumb that bees would ignore, say, temperature cues, which would tend to mark asphalt off as a not-at-all thirst-quenching location; but it’s only a few bees that are confused by this anyway.
Also, which came first, the widespread use of bees as a wholesome pun element, or the innocent goofiness of the word “bee”? Double letters are so sillee!