Who’d want to be a drone at the end of summer?
This drone has been harassed out of the hive by his sisters, who bit and tugged at him, dragging him away from the sweet benefits of their labour. Collapsed on the hive landing board, he makes a sad sight.
His brothers have already come to an end. Their dried out, desiccated bodies litter the floor. And he has attracted the attention of a wasp, who perhaps views his large abdomen as a moving honey pot of juicy reproductive organs.
The wasp is smaller, but has the advantage of a sting. He tries to move away, but he has been weakened by his earlier struggles with his sisters, and his feeble motions are no match for the persistent wasp.
A second wasp joins in. His future looks set for a grisly end. I’m afraid there is no happy ending.
Here are some pretty flowers to make up for it. Everyone is out blackberry picking in the local fields.
Spiky though the thistles are, their flowers turn into soft downy seeds that drift on the breeze. Summer blowing away.