Over the years the sunshine boy grew, knees and feet faster than boy sometimes. He still had a feeling for bees though.
"What have you found?"
"It's a bumble bee; it's tired."
"Be careful in case it stings."
Cradling the bee on the tip of his finger, the boy carefully carried it. Away from the barren and dusty kerb and towards the green of the garden. Gently tipping his finger forwards, the boy coaxed the tired bee to leave him. Into the heart of the flower, where food was waiting, the boy returned his bumble bee to a place of safety. Not once, not ever did he get stung. My boy has a feeling for bees.
For his Godmother, Sarah, who always loved that her Godson stroked bees.