While being serenaded the day before by (nearly) all the insects, no one had paid much attention to the buzzing of the bees.

But the next morning, they certainly noticed all the invitations.

Papery strips of birch bark, slipped under doors, tucked in the entryways to nests and hives, and tacked to tree branches with tiny globs of sticky honey: they were all covered in the bees’ elaborate calligraphy, written in sparkly golden ink.

That very night, the invitations said, the bees would be hosting one of their summer salons and, as a rare treat, everyone was invited. There would be seed cakes, iced tea sweetened with honey, and glittering conversation until long after dark.

(Late August 2024)

Story © Jennifer McClain Singleton / Read+Purr

This is another vignette in my ongoing series of Tiny Garden Stories: peaceful 1-minute tales that let you read like a kid again. Click one of the first two buttons below to go to (or back to, if that’s where you fell down the rabbit hole) either the “Public Garden” archive page or (if you’re a Story Club member) to the members-only “Private Garden” page. Or click the third button to learn more about my Tiny Garden Stories.

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