The morning sun filtered through the thick canopy of the Twin Tiers casting dancing patches of light on the mossy forest floor. Baby Bigfoot —woke up with a giant yawn that stretched his fuzzy, oversized jaws. He scratched his tummy, shook the pine needles out of his thick brown fur, and let out a soft, contented “Mmph.”

Today felt like a good day to hunt for some delicious honey, and maybe he could bring some home to share!

Padding softly on his massive, surprisingly quiet feet, B.B. wandered away from the sleeping area of his clan. He loved his mom and dad, but he loved exploring almost as much. Every rustle of a leaf or flash of color in the brush was an invitation.

As he pushed through a thick patch of ferns, a bright splash of purple caught his eye. A field of wild flowers and fireweed stretched out before him, swaying gently in the warm breeze. But it wasn’t just the colors that made B.B. tilt his head. It was the sound, 

Zzzzz… bzzzz…

B.B. crouched low, his large, amber eyes widening. He crept forward on all fours, blending into the brush. What exactly is he seeing that’s sitting perfectly still on a vibrant purple petal?  Well, it turns out it’s a tiny, fuzzy creature wearing stripes of black and bright gold.

A honeybee. Just what he set out to see!!

B.B. held his breath. He watched, fascinated, as the little bee wiggled its way into the heart of the flower. When it emerged, its hind legs were dusted with a thick, yellow powder—like it had been wading through sunshine. The bee took off, its wings a blur.

Bzzz.

B.B.’s curiosity was locked in. He didn’t utter a sound, but his expressive eyebrows shot up. Where was the bee going?  Would it lead him to the honey hive? The bee zipped over to a white clover. B.B. army-crawled through the grass, his nose twitching. He was mesmerized by what appeared to be the bee’s chores

• Step 1: Bee lands.
• Step 2: Bee drinks nectar and gathers pollen.
• Step 3: Bee zips to the next flower.

B.B. followed each step the bee made tumbling forward to keep up, nearly flattening a patch of dandelions.

He followed his new tiny friend from bloom to bloom. He was so focused that he didn’t notice his own clumsiness, occasionally tripping over a root and landing with a soft “Oof!” But he always scrambled back up, careful not to scare the insect. He watched in absolute awe as more bees joined the party. The meadow was alive with a gentle, industrious hum. It was National Honeybee Day in the forest, and B.B was thrilled to witness so many bees working together in a celebration of sweetness.

Eventually, the first bee seemed satisfied. It rose higher into the air, abandoning the meadow and flying straight toward the deeper, darker woods. B.B. stood up on his hind legs, tapped his chest in excitement, and jogged after it.

The bee led B.B. to an ancient, hollow oak tree. High up, where a massive branch had broken off years ago, there was a steady traffic jam of gold and black. Hundreds of bees were coming and going, a swirling vortex of life.

B.B. hid behind a thick pine, peeking out. He noticed a sweet, rich scent wafting down from the branch. It smelled like warm summer days and concentrated sunshine. His stomach gave a loud gurgle.

Wanting a closer look, B.B. shimmy-climbed up a neighboring birch tree. He was incredibly agile for a creature with feet the size of snowshoes. Hanging by one arm from a sturdy branch, he found himself eye-level with the hive.

Inside the hollow trunk, he could see the magnificent structure:

Perfect, golden wax hexagons, glistening with thick, amber honey. The bees were working in perfect harmony, sealing up the cells and fanning their wings to keep the hive cool.

B.B. reached out a massive, furry finger, his mouth watering. He wanted to taste the sticky gold so badly. But just as he got close, a few guard bees flew out, buzzing sharply around his nose.

BZZZZ!

B.B. blinked. He looked at the tiny bees, then looked down at his own giant hands. He realized how hard they had worked, flying from flower to flower all morning just to make that beautiful home. He didn’t want to break it.

With a soft, apologetic “Coos,” B.B. pulled his hand back. He gave the bees a respectful little nod, recognizing them as fellow keepers of the forest.

As if the forest itself appreciated his kindness, B.B. noticed something glistening on a broad leaf directly underneath the hive. A thick, heavy dollop of pure honey had dripped down from the comb, landing perfectly on the clean green surface.

B.B.’s eyes lit up. He carefully scooched down the tree, scooped up the golden drop with the tip of his index finger, and popped it into his mouth.

His eyes closed in pure bliss. It was sweet, floral, and warm. He did a little happy dance on the branch, shaking the leaves, his silent laughter bubbling up inside him.

As the afternoon sun began to dip, casting long shadows through the trees, B.B. climbed down to the forest floor. He took one last look up at the bustling hive, gave a little wave, and turned to head home. He wasn’t at all disappointed that he wasn’t able to bring honey home to mama, he was excited to act out this adventure for her—he would buzz like a bee and point to the sky, and she would know exactly what he meant.