A swarm of bees funnel over the land. No one knocked their nest about or stole their honey. Summer snuck into the hive last night while the queen was asleep and grabbed hold of everyone’s stingers.
And now tempers are heating up. The bees are drunk off a one-night stand.
The bees flex and growl so that all who live on the land notice they are buzzing for a fight, willing to take on anyone making a claim on Summer. At the apex of this taunting, the Wind or Rain or Fire will swat the bees out of their sexual stupor.
Of course, Summer will be criticized by the crows in the trees and men without the courage to approach her. Summer finds a certain humor in man’s fear of the unknown. When God changed Summer into the season she had to give up being a human, and most of being human, as Summer learned quickly, was the weight of worry.
Summer does not worry anymore. She is the greatest fertility goddess in the world. Summer provides something worth experiencing to any who let go of power when they grab hold of her waist, to any who do not care what the crows say for undressing with her in the tall grass.