Logs:Voice of the Garden

Voice of the Garden
Dramatis Personae Bug, Sarah
In Absentia	2019-09-12 "They have a real mean sting, but are pretty peaceful unless you cause trouble."
Location Tompkins Square Park
The sky is heavy and grey, casting New York City in a dim light even in the middle of the day. While the threat of rain has been growing heavier by the hour, it also hints at lower temperatures; the small breezes that gust through the park are noticeably cooler than the surrounding air. Most of the patrons have abandoned the park for more sheltered areas. Not that Sarah seems to notice. The dimness of the day apparently hasn't effected her wardrobe. She's dressed in a black tee that reads 'PICK YOUR WEAPON' in white, an assortment of cooking and baking utensils in the same color surrounding it. Frayed acid-wash shorts, red tights that are starting to develop runs in both shins, and bright yellow converse finish the outfit. She's currently kneeling just off one of the more secluded paths, using her knees and thighs as a flat surface to balance her sketchpad on. A beat-up pencil bag lays open on the ground beside her, colored pencils spilling out. Instead of caring about the weather, or how everyone else around her seems to have left, her attention focuses back and forth between her current drawing, and the small bunch of white and yellow daffodils in front of her. A few insects start to buzz around the daffodils that Sarah is drawing, their forms somewhere between bees and wasps, and not particularly identifiable. They are fuzzy with red stripes around their abdomen, looking slimmer than a honey bee but with a more prominent stinger. They take their time enjoying the daffodils, buzzing from flower to flower. At the same time, a young man in a well-worn grey hooded sweatshirt and a pair of jeans that have holes worn in the knees stops a little way off the beaten path, his hood drawn up. It seems like he is wearing sunglasses, though it’s not completely with the shade thrown over his eyes. His gaze seems to be fixed on the upper part of a nearby tree, though upon noticing Sarah, he looks between her and the tree a few times. “Hey, umm, I bet it’s gonna rain soon. Won’t that ruin... whatever you’re doing there?” Sarah's eyes go wide as the-- bees? buzz into her view, though nothing in her posture changes to show fear or tension. She leans forward (just a smidge!) to look closer, head tilting curiously. "Hello," she murmurs, eyes crossing a bit as one of the bees(?) hovers in front of her face for a moment. The daffodils are judged more important. She's just started a quick sketch of one of the maybe-bees when Bug speaks, catching her off-guard. Something like a yelp escapes her as she tries to turn on her heels toward the voice; 'something' like a yelp, because she ends up losing her balance and falling back to sit in the dirt without trying to catch herself. The impact, as small as it is, cuts any sound short. Bug does yelp and jumps back a bit at Sarah's reaction, and he raises his hands palms forward. His voice pitches up nervously: "Didn't mean to scare you! I'm not like a weird creep or anything like that! I was just checking on something and you might've got rain ruining your drawing." He puts his hands back into his hoodie's pockets, and inclines his head to look downward, which also obscures his face further. He does not approach to help Sarah. "Are you okay?" "No, it's okay! I'm okay!" Face burning red, Sarah focuses on carefully closing her sketchpad, checks to make sure none of her pencils have snapped as she gathers them up. "You were just trying to help. I was just..." She waves a hand near her head and climbs to her feet, things clutched to her chest."In la-la land. Sorry if I startled you." The 'bees' continue buzzing around the flowers for a couple of moments longer before deciding to instead orbit around Bug, who barely seems to register it even when one lands on top of his hood. "You didn't startle me!" he protests, though after a pause he admits, "Well, maybe a little... Sorry for breaking you outta la-la land." He glances back up towards the tree he was looking at earlier. "What were you drawing that got you so la-la?" "Oh, it's fine. I'd rather a person break me outta my reverie than, like-- rain," Sarah reassures him, dusting off the back of her shorts. "Rain is a lot more rude about it." She nods down to the bunch of daffodils that she had been knelt in front of. "Flowers. I'm sure they have an actual name, but I don't know what it is. And then those guys showed up!" 'Those guys' is accompanied with a short point at the 'bees' circling around Bug, one or two small, curious steps forward. Far too focused on something new to really notice their behavior. "I've never seen bees like that. Do you know what kind they are?" “Oh! Yeah, those are daffodils,” starts Bug excitedly. “They’re pretty, but the ones in North America are pretty overbred. Most bees don’t even bother with ‘em actually! ‘Cause breeders want pretty daffodils, but the bees sure don’t care so much, they just want them to smell nice and make good nectar. Um.” He shifts back a little when Sarah comes towards him, but continues without much pause, still speaking quickly. “Ohh, those guys aren’t actually bees. Or like, not true bees, but pretty much a kind of bees anyways. They have a real mean sting, but are pretty peaceful unless you cause trouble.” He points up towards the tree that he was looking at. “They’re not common, so be nice to them, ‘cause they’re pollinators and are buddies, not pests.” Sarah takes silent note of Bug moving backwards, but makes no outward sign of it other than a glance at his feet and stopping her own. "That's so cool!" she answers earnestly, bouncing some on her heels while turning to look where Bug points. "Not the overbreeding, but-- what kind of flowers do bees like? And these sort-of bees? Or do they like the same things?" The questions come in rapid, curious succession. "And no, I don't like being mean to any bugs." She pauses, brow furrowing in thought. Wait. "Unless you consider roaches and mosquitos bugs. I think they're demons." In the direction that Bug had pointed is what appears to be a waxy insect nest built in the crook between the branch and the trunk. He continues his excited explaining "Bees like lots of stuff! Like, if you want to be nice to honeybees, you got lots of options. They usually like flowers with lots of nectar and pollen. If you have a little herb garden or something... but it's mostly flowers that people breed to be pretty that are unappetizing. Lots of the native flora and stuff are good, and are what these guys like. The honeybees we know aren't actually native, they're from Europe, so they are pretty good with plant species brought over." He gestures back at the nest. "These red stripey guys like the sweet stuff especially, edible flowers and stuff." He chews his lip, "Well... I kinda feel bad for mosquitos. They're just doing what they gotta to live and for their babies, and people hate 'em. But mosquitoes don't bother me any anyways." He adds hurriedly, an explanation for a question never asked, "'cause I'm wearing a sweater!" Sarah nods along as Bug gives her a mini-lesson in melittology, taking mental notes. There is already a garden on the roof of the Lofts. Maybe she can add some flowerpots for the bees. "I don't think I'd hate them so much if they didn't bite me on the hands," she says offhandedly, too busy studying the hive to draw later to find Bug's last comment odd. "And I don't like wearing gloves when it isn't cold out, which I guess are basically hand-sweaters? In more ways than one." "Oh yeah, I don't think you should like mosquitoes or anything. They're still stealing your blood!" says Bug. His quick confirming nod comes a moment afterwards. "Gloves might make it harder when you are doing art outside!" He glances up again at the hive, "Makes sure you don't tell anyone about these guys living here. I don't want the city to try and get rid of them. They aren't the european honeybees that people like, so I think they might be less nice about how they remove them." She whips around to stare at Bug, appalled and wide-eyed. "They wouldn't just find a beekeeper to take them? I mean I don't think I have anyone to talk about bees with anyway, so that isn't a worry. They're just--so important!" Sarah seems ready to continue preaching to the choir, but a rumble of thunder overhead stops her. Her expression crumples to worry as she looks as the sky, clutches her things tighter to her chest. "I should go," she says. When she looks at Bug again, it's with a smile. "Thanks so much for answering all my questions. I hope I didn't keep you here for too long." "Well, they're not real bees. They're pseudobees. So beekeepers won't take them, and they won't like beeing beekeeped. They are, um, like I said they have a mean sting," says Bug. He sounds a bit nervous as he delivers this explanation, but he agrees enthusiastically, "But they are still important, yeah! They're great and cool! And... no... you didn't keep me here too long." He pulls his hood even more forward, gives a hesitant wave to Sarah and walks over closer to the tree.