# 176 (cont'd) PANDORA'S BOX III

The Violator’s Return

After a careful check from a distance and seeing no bees, I sauntered bravely across the grass and picked up my watering can. Immediately, two hornets jetted straight out of nowhere. No looping flight, or ominous buzz, just the swishing hum of a direct flight full speed ahead. One made a fiery crash into my cheek and another into my right arm. Communication clear. They were as angry as anything could be. Shared DNA with Killer Bees perhaps. Nevertheless, completely out of control.

I could hear and see others zipping straight for me. In my hurry to escape, I slipped on the wet grass and fell to the ground. That fall was probably my salvation as they criss-crossed in mass profusion above my head. Then half crouching, half-crawling I scurried away. When I was some distance from the plant, I looked back. And there, to my utter amazement, in the branch of the Mayday tree, the Mayday that I gaze out the window at every morning, the Mayday that shelters my potted plants, I saw a nest as big as a soccer ball no more than three feet from my pedestal planter. How did this construction happen without any awareness on my part?

So once my scrambling feet stopped slipping and gripped a bit of dry grass, I fairly flew back to the Shop to tell Hub. By now my emotions were even more wounded. Feeling abused, despised, and whipped. Hub assured me he would look after it and I went to the house to nurse my wounds and sorrow.

Shortly after I saw Hub approaching the nest. Head covered with a mesh insect helmet, dressed in coveralls and high-top boots and carrying a very long stick with a flaming rag on one end. With the extreme length of the stick he was able to stand well back as he ignited the paper nest. The fury was immediate but the jets were unable to discern where to attack or where to fire. When the wind rippled the leaves on the potted plant, they attacked it with total viciousness, their wings and bodies making loud ‘whacking’ noises as they plowed into it. Foolishly assuming that a pink petunia was the culprit responsible for the flames and smoke that destroyed their home.

Next post below – surprising insights into the path of recourse.