BEE KISSES:  A lesson in Being

Sept. 6, 2010


It had been a gorgeous day on the Denali Highway.  The fall colors were like a painter’s palette – shades of russet, deep red, gold, dark green, and tan.  They gave me the urge to quilt.  The sun was gloriously warm and the sky that Alaskan forget-me-not blue.  We were camping with friends and had stopped at midday at Mile 53.  Our eyes were saturated with the beautiful colors and landscape.  The quiet was so loud one could hear it.


It was lunch time and we made a communal meal of sandwiches, cheese, crackers and sliced apples.    We were watching caribou following their ancestral trail.  Sitting in camp, eating, a large bumblebee began to buzz around me.  I sat calmly still, expecting it to scout me out and then fly off.  Instead, it landed on my hand and began crawling across the tips of my fingers.  I felt a very strange sensation.  Upon closer inspection, I could see the bee’s tiny tongue rapidly licking my skin.  Apparently, I had the juice from the apple slices on my fingers and the bee was enjoying the taste.  She worked her way down into my palm and tried to push between my fingers with her head.  When I didn’t spread my fingers apart, she ran her tongue between them.  It tickled – a lot!  Such an amazing feeling!


This bee licked and tickled my skin for about 15 minutes.  She was very gentle and I sensed a connection with her.  I offered her access to my apple slice, which she crawled onto and licked with her tiny tongue.  Then she would return to my fingers and continue licking my skin.


I could only think that since most all of the flowers were gone, she was hungry.  I felt honored to have shared my meal with her.  As I have reflected back on that amazing experience, I realized that as it unfolded I was very focused and “in the moment”.  While the bee was traversing my hand and caressing me with bee kisses, she was teaching me to BE.  It was a powerful lesson, one that will stay deeply imprinted with me.  I am grateful for this precious gift from a small but powerful Teacher.



My heart within me is restless.

I hear the green-cloaked mountains call.

They tell me a tale of our origins

as they stand majestic and tall.

Why cannot others hear them?

How can humans rip and tear

at the home of the moose, the birch,

the eagle, the bear?


The Mother is gentle and loving.

Of her gifts she does freely give.

So why do humans foul her body

with the selfish way they live?

O Children of Earth, learn respect

for your Mother, before it is too late!

Learn to live in peace and love.

Walk away from hate.


The healing must begin inside each

one of us who walks this land.

All we need to do is reach out for

Spirit's Guiding Hand.

Terri Lyne Anthony, 6-7-05



She is Denali, Grandmother Mountain.

Standing majestic with her head held high.

A permanent shawl of white wrapped 'round her.

The setting sun paints her face in rosy glow.

Powerful are the energies that emanate from her,

drawing me like a pilgrim to a shrine.

She calls to me with the Voice of Woman.

Child of Earth, I answer her summons.

With grace, dignity, and love The Great One

gifts me with her blessings,

filling my soul with joy, peace, and healing.

She is Denali, Grandmother Mountain.

Terri Lyne Anthony, September 2004