By sunrise the little bee house at the edge of the flowerbed had already opened a desk no wider than a petal. Each guest paused at the doorway, said a quiet hello to the hole, then nodded to the daisy before taking exactly one hollow reed.
We asked at the kiosk across the path. "Three of them checked in before the rolls were even warm," said a woman with a paper bag. "Nobody doubled up. It was the politest queue I have seen all week."
The park keeper pinned a note to the stake: please wait until the daisy nods, and kindly leave the next tube for whoever comes after tea. The next morning the same three guests returned with a speck of pollen as a thank-you, and the daisy remembered every name.