Those foxgloves that blew in on the wind last year and planted themselves in the little garden next to the house?Yesterday they swayed back and forth like the masts of a ship in a storm at sea.
A bee flew round and round, trying to decide which flower he liked the best.
He just couldn't make up his mind. They all seemed so -- beckoning.
I imagine the range of choices and all that swaying was making him a bit woozy.
But he kept going, true to his beeness no matter how great the challenge.