The Hive

Comb, and the bee that built it.

A friend's farm in the middle of a growing season. Rows of vegetables and flowers, and at the edge of them, the hives. Nothing in that field sets fruit without the bees, and the bees build the thing that holds them, cell by cell, out of their own bodies.

Eight pieces came out of that visit. Each one is a fragment of comb. The black diamond set into it is the bee.