I like bees. They really don’t bother me that much. It’s not like I want to get stung, but they tend to leave me alone, maybe because I don’t freak out when they fly near me. I understand those who are allergic or just don’t want to get stung, though.
I remember vividly the first time I got stung by a bee. It was at our house on 5th Ave in Gloversville, and I was already strapped into my car seat in the back. Mom was locking up the house or grabbing something from inside, and when I shifted in my car seat, the bee stung me right on the butt. I don’t know if I started screaming (I couldn’t have been more than fifteen at the time) and I don’t remember the aftermath, but the sting itself is clear as day.
At work there is a window air conditioner. I was mowing the lawn and noticed a lot of bees around near the a/c unit. I stopped to watch, mainly to see if there was a ground nest nearby. Watching the bees for a minute, I realized that they were going to the ground under the a/c to drink, not because their hive was down there.
With the ridiculous drought going on, I’m not surprised that the bees are hanging around a reliable source of water. It’s fun to sit a few feet away and not really be in any danger of getting stung. As long as I don’t get too close or let Pico run through them, I figure it’s safe to hang out and watch. I won’t bother them if they don’t bother me, and the feeling so far seems to be mutual.