Being a beekeeper is a privilege. I get to go out into nature on my solitary mission to tend to the beehives, usually in the very best of weather. After the initial flurry of preparation there is a peacefulness the descends as I approach my hives. I greet each of them, talking to the ladies as I approach. I stand to one side and study the activity at the hive entrance watching the bees swooping in and out efficiently darting either side of the guard bee. I watch the young bees climb up the hive before launching off into what must seem like a leap of faith on their initial orientation flights. As I work, I ponder on the bees amazing ability to understand the weather and the seasons and their colony’s needs.
I hope they forgive my interfering and opening up their home. “I’m only trying to look after you.” I plead if they are in particularly nasty mood. Each hive has a personality of its own. Some are quite as lambs and ignore my fumbling, some are cranky and I often think I should re-queen them but they are good producers and located out of harms way, I’ll let them be.
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