Imagine the reaction from some random bee — floating over a random grey Canadian landscape, his entire life dedicated to pollinating one boring Canadian flower after another, just waiting out his week until he’ll finally be old enough to die a slow death on a grey Canadian sidewalk — when he spots this thing.
Can you imagine the dance of pure joy he’d put on when he got back to the hive?
No one would believe him of course. They’d probably isolate him in the hive, joke about him needing a tinfoil hat, stop talking when he entered a room, eventually his own larvae would point to him and whisper, and he’d start to drink… not like he used to do — his Friday night white Russians — but straight gin, from the bottle. Cursing under his breath about the day he flew over that incredible flower… all the while knowing he’ll never have a greater, more meaningful experience than on that day. With that damn flower.
And then he’ll die. It’ll be assumed it was suicide, even though he never really saw the windshield because he was just so jumped up on the gin.
The moral of the story… just shut up and keep it to yourself, no one wants to hear about your best day ever. And… jazz hands! End scene.
The flash was off, those are the natural colours and highlights of that flower. Somehow I kept it in focus long enough for the computer in my camera to register it in all its glory. Someone should be paying me to teach this stuff.