( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

( Read more... )

The honeysuckle in Deadwood Park was in full bloom, the sweet, heady scent of the blossoms hanging in the warm evening air. Fat black and yellow bees danced a slow buzzing waltz around the white flowers, their flight paths spelling out sigils of arcane power dedicated to the Hive. White-shrouded beekeepers stood by with notebooks open, pens gripped ( Read more... )