I, too, was once part of my family hive, joining the generations of insects and learning the ancient art of honey-making. But even as a little bee, not yet full-grown, I had a wandering eye for the strange- the world beyond the honeycomb: the wide, open spaces of forests and ocean and sky. On quiet days of my youth, my bee family would find me sitting on the tops of trees, looking out and away to the blue, blue horizon, to distant places of the giraffe, the hippopotamus, and the elephant.

On the day that I left, they gathered together to watch me fly away on my honeyed wings, crying their big, bee-tears of sadness. Alone on the zephyr that took me half way around the world, I felt free for the very first time. I visit the borders of other lands. One foot in, and one foot out, I am never fully a part of any group; I have no tribe of my own. From Shamash's wonderful blog....

I am having a bit of trouble saying what I want to say, so I'm letting other people say it for me.