It’s pointless, trying to count the pale green and peach flowers that have bloomed on the Bumblebee Tree. Pointless too, trying to count the bees, who, one or sometimes two at a time, are at work on the flowers, collecting all that is sweet at their centers. 
     It’s best to just say there are thousands upon thousands, take hold of a low branch, swing up and climb through the middle, high, perch among the flowers and the bees, close your eyes and imagine you are in a Keeper’s skep, perhaps the Queen, and all around you the drone of your hive, your Kingdom, deafening, alive and busy.