Wherever there are flowers, you will find bees. Some dart here and there, sleek and fast as sports cars. Others buzz noisily like tiny motorcycles. My favorites are the bumblebees, the B52s of bees, slow and heavy, built for function, not style. They land carefully, their heft weighing down the more delicate blossoms. I watched the bumblebee work the flower, then somehow lift off, grains of pollen clinging to its body. It stayed aloft and slowly flew to the next flower. Even as a small child, I was never afraid of them. They know they have an important job and they get on with it.