One morning a bee appeared dead in my patio (well... tiny patio). It made an impact on me how complete, intact, perfect it was. As if it had been suddenly petrified. In spite of having a bit of dislike for these bugs, I picked it up with a piece of paper and took her inside. I observed it for some days, kind of trying to figure out what had happened to it. However, needless to say, I didn't get to know. Finally, I decided to bury it beside the only little flower I have in my patio, which is just the tiny flower from a weed growing by the rubber plant.
No sé qué le puedo aportar al mundo, pero alguien me sugirió entrar al planeta de los blogs, quizás como un refugio o vía de escape para cuando la cabeza (y el alma) parece que nos va a estallar.
jueves, 14 de abril de 2011
Abeja/Bee
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Que tierna historia!
ResponderEliminarSeguramente va a ser la flor con mas polen de la historia :)
Saludos
¡Epa! Qué honor un experto en bichos como Galantz haciendo un comentario en esta historia! Un abrazo :)
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