Yesterday we left Santa Cruz in the wee hours of the morning, caught sunrise from the road, came home and unpacked, napped, made it out to our local skatepark, made dinner, and even had time to squeeze in sunset at the beach. And it was there, at the beach, that we stumbled upon a beehive. I noticed a man peering under the stair and when we caught eyes, he directed our attention to it. He signaled to his husband ahead of him and I called over to Hooper, who was still climbing on the rocks. And together, we stood in amazement watching all those bees climb over and through one another. Social distancing disregarded in a way only a hive can allow. Before the man walked away with his husband he said, “it’s hopeful, isn’t it?”. It is, I said. And we went our separate ways.

When we got back in my truck, I recounted the experience to the kids and said, “isn’t it beautiful how nature can nurture human connection?”. It is hopeful. It’s also how I see my own higher power reaching out to me, reminding me she’s here.