A good day. I got in touch with someone from the internet who could help with the bees and we met up at noon. Meeting a complete stranger in a cemetery to go pry lightning-struck bees out of a Confederate mass grave was an interesting way to spend my lunch break. I've read about bee-keeping for years, but never had any hands on experience, mostly because I'm allergic to them and a little bit afraid of them, re: cursed, but this was a different experience than my yellow jacket nest encounters. They were so gentle, especially so for being blasted out of a tree, left with their whole hive exposed on the ground for a week while weedwhackers and chainsaws blazed around them. The guy didn't even use a bee suit to work with them; he scooped them up with his bare hands and gently trickled them into the box. I've never see anything like that. Just this plain, friendly old dad with his hands full of bees, being calm. 

It made me happy. That was all there was to it. Just someone from my town taking the time to come rescue some honeybees on a workday where honestly, everything else went pretty wrong. But I'm happy to think of those little bees, glad to imagine them winding up in his garden with the other hives he's rescued, and me, getting to see a little bit of it. I've felt so... tired and sick to death of myself lately. It was good to see something I had never seen. 

Now it's getting on toward bedtime and I feel extremely tired. I thought my running injury was over, and ran six miles Tuesday, only to have it all come crashing back, and now I can barely walk. That's hard for me, and I'm trying to keep my head together about it. I think it might be raining right now; I'm sitting on the porch and I can hear it clicking in the leaves.