The Ancient Greeks knew that the Muses, goddesses of music, science and poetry, dispatch honeybees to deliver stories and sweeten the lips of storytellers.
In early February I visited Beehive Wool Shop to pick up a gift card. On my way in the door, a book caught my eye. It physically dragged me sideways to the display rack and thrust itself into my hands. “Buy me,” it demanded.
At home, I leafed through the 200 enchanting knitting motifs: adorable sheep, mesmerizing waves and then oh! Bees.
By then, the Covid-19 pandemic was the only topic of conversation at the office, on the news, on social media. Uncertainty, anxiety and fear were everywhere, all the time. I needed something tactile, tangible and pretty to help me stay grounded, so I made a return trip to Beehive for seven skeins of wool and I cast on for a three-by-five blanket of those charming bees.
That was weeks ago and as of this morning, I’m working on a novel, a short story, two poems and a mini essay. The more bees appear in the wake of my needles, the more story ideas arrive.
Those Ancient Greeks were onto something.
A version of this story appeared in Tidelines, the newsletter of the Vancouver Island Romance Authors, May 2020.
