Before it snows as it may tomorrow, I need to say a few words about bees. No, not about birds and bees, just bees. Because bees have been one of the new joys that have helped us through these strange times of the past spring, summer, and now fall. Late last April, with the knowledgeable assistance of our generous neighbors, we had the good fortune to acquire two hives of carniolan bees from a young beekeeper who had become dangerously allergic to bee stings. With that, we began a relationship with the remarkable and complex secret life of bees.

“I hadn't been out to the hives before, so to start off she gave me a lesson in what she called 'bee yard etiquette'. She reminded me that the world was really one bee yard, and the same rules work fine in both places. Don't be afraid, as no life-loving bee wants to sting you. Still, don't be an idiot; wear long sleeves and pants. Don't swat. Don't even think about swatting. If you feel angry, whistle. Anger agitates while whistling melts a bee's temper. Act like you know what you're doing, even if you don't. Above all, send the bees love. Every little thing wants to be loved.”
― Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

One of our hives did not do well and seemed to dwindle by the week until it died, but the other, our East Hive, has thrived. So, with cold weather looming and no pollen or nectar left in our yard or fields, we are preparing them for winter with extra food (sugar syrup) and measures to keep the hive insulated and free of moisture, mice, and other hazards. While they need their own honey to live on through the winter, we are hoping they can spare a little for us to sweeten a holiday season in quarantine.

We have learned a lot from our neighbor, from books, and from YouTube, but also so much from the ladies of the beehive and the business of their daily survival. Their complex social organization with a queen responsible for regenerating her populace, 50,000 of her daughters with 45 days in which to complete their multifaceted life’s work, and a half-dozen sons (the drones) who always seem to be hunting around for the remote rivals that of any human society. We watched those female workers build their wax “cities” of hexagonal spaces into birthing centers, food storage rooms, and infrastructure while they attended to the queen, guarded the entrance, foraged for pollen and nectar, cleaned house, and presided over the births of their heirs and the deaths of their elders.

Not everyone will have the opportunity to know bees, and I don’t have room here to pass along even what little we have learned so far (a small measure of what we have still to learn). But read something more about bees, watch a movie about bees, or join a social media beekeepers group or, at least, when you see them at their work, send them some loving kindness knowing “every little thing wants to be loved.”