And so spring begins…at least, here, where I live. I cut grass the other day – I felt bad about the dandelions. I only cut a few, those nearest the house, dandelions and clover. I left 5 acres of them and other wildflowers for the bees and the baby dragon flies and the lady bugs and all that is needed to make this space complete. I am anxious for the beekeeper to come during the night and leave 100 hives near the canal at the end of the woods. I feel satisfied that I have been a good steward and have left enough wildflowers for them. They hold me captive, these spirited workers who do so much for us – little creatures we have mostly taken for granted and many times killed are so rudimentary and essential. Anyway, I cannot wait for their return stay.
It is in the very early morning when the dew defines the eccentrics of the cobwebs, before they are disturbed, before the day has moved in and taken them when I most enjoy the bees. There are hundreds of them streaming through the woods and hovering over the field doing what bees do and have done for ever. I see them through the rays of morning light, so essential, busy doing their jobs. Their journey is arduous – going through woods and baring themselves over open fields amongst predators and problems, but most survive and find their way home at the end of the day, safe and snuggled in their hives once again with little bodies full of honey and wax, a hard day’s work behind them.
This flight home each evening right before sunset when the hens roost and the tree frogs call is beautiful and symphonic. Again, the rays of the sun are part of this splendor, this time picking up specks of the day and becoming a mixture with the little bees tired from a day of gathering. It is so soothing and peaceful to watch. I am enchanted with their predictable pattern of flight and the way they do it with unchanging motions, every day no matter what. I suppose I envy them in a very odd sort of way, they go through their day, each day, knowing they have a very important job to do and it is done and at the end of the day, they are home, tired, happy and fulfilled.
Anyway, this is my simple explanation of my fascination with bees. I am anxiously awaiting their return sometimes in April and I will mourn their departure sometimes in July, but they will leave behind quarts of honey and fields of flowers.