Plink.

Ignoring the small noise, I turned the page of my book, engrossed in the story. Very little light filtered through the windows, the thick blinds obscuring the vibrant summer light. Contentment surrounded me like a cloud. Time seemed to move slowly, oozing by like a thick jelly. It was the beginning of summer break, the next few months promising adventures and relaxation. It seemed like I had all the time in the world at my feet. But for today, I’d decided that I would get a start on my reading goal. Although the weather was currently beautiful, I would always rather be reading than playing outside in the hot sun.

Plink. Plink.

Curiosity began to edge its way into my brain. Often times, insects would collide into our window, causing a similar noise. But usually, the noise would only sound once or twice- certainly not three times in a row.

The room was silent for another minute or so. I sunk further into the couch, the soft, warm leather enveloping me. Returning to my book, I dismissed the noises for nothing but a clumsy bug. I had even seen a few bees flying around our brick column earlier that morning when I’d watered the garden. One of them had likely just wandered over to our window.

Plink. Plunk.

This time, the noises sounded from the kitchen window. The thought of getting up was unappealing, but I was intrigued by the sounds. Finally, curiosity won over my mind. Peeling myself off the couch, I walked to the window. Slowly, I pulled on the thin cord to raise the blinds, blinking at the bright afternoon sun. But there was something not quite right.

Then, it registered. Instead of the clear blue sky, there were dots. Black dots, hundreds, no, thousands, of them, swarming our backyard. Obscuring the sky, concealing the trees, blocking out our entire yard.

My stomach clenched. “What in the world…” I gasped, my eyes widening. Shock raced through my veins, seeming to freeze me. My mother immediately snapped to attention, turning around from her desk.

Suddenly, it clicked. They were bees.

The bees that had been flying around earlier that morning- maybe they’d had something to do with them.

My mom quickly joined me at the window. “What the…”

“They’re bees! They’re all bees! The ones near the column this morning there must’ve been more than we thought and now they’re here!” I chattered excitedly, my eyes wide. I dashed to the window in our kitchen, frantically calling for my sister to come here.

“Holy cow! They’re all bees!” My mom quickly pulled out her phone to take photos. I ran to grab my own, and our ‘fancy’ point-and-shoot camera.

Audrey skidded to a stop in the kitchen. “What?” she asked, out of breath from her sprint down the stairs. Then her mouth dropped open at the sight of the swarming black dots. Quickly, the room dissolved into a chorus of surprised exclamations and ridiculous rhetorical questions.

The three of us clustered by the window. Smudges appeared on the window as we pressed our noses to the cool glass. The air conditioning clicked on, the cold air tickling our faces. We watched in awe as the bees appeared to gradually congregate around the corner connecting a column to the bottom of our balcony. After the shock wore off, I became curious. Why had these bees decided to cluster in our backyard? Had the bees near the column this morning had anything to do with it?

I raced to our computer to google my questions. A few minutes later, I found that the colony of bees had likely needed more room and created a new queen bee. The new queen bee had then flown out of their old hive to find a new place to live. That was what the small group of bees had been this morning- probably the queen bee with a few of her soldier bees hunting for a place to live. And then, after they’d decided to live in our backyard, the queen had sent out a signal to the rest of the hive, and that’s what had caused this swarm.

Excitedly, I shared my newfound information. My mom laughed. “We’re the chosen ones!”

Audrey and I returned to huddling around the window as my mom began to research what to do when there’s a swarm of about two thousand bees right outside your door. Almost all of the bees just flying around the yard had now joined the clump in the corner, which was a little smaller than a soccer ball. My feet were chilled as I stood on the tile floor, my fingernails digging into the worn, flaking white paint on our windowsill. I stared in amazement into the depths of the giant writhing mass of insects. It was hard to imagine that they were all actually alive- thousands of tiny bodies, each with a consciousness.

Gradually, the afternoon wore on. I returned to my reading, but still periodically looked out the window to check on the swarm. The silence was occasionally broken by intermittent plinks as the bees slowly began to disappear. It appeared as though they were crawling into a crack in the column, as the sky was clear of any surging black dots.

By early evening, there was only a small group of twenty or thirty bees. Madeline came home from hanging out with her friends. My dad returned from work. We bombarded them with our enthusiasm, cutting off each other’s sentences to add in words of our own. Steadily, the shock and adrenaline from the day decreased.

Soon, it had almost seemed as though nothing had happened. But inside, I knew I had a memory, and I knew I always would.