Bee Viewing

Dear Bees,


Early this week, my next door neighbor was burning brush in her back yard about six feet away from your hive. It was evening and all you worker ladies were very active around the entrance. I was worried that you were getting ready to get the hell out of there because you thought there was a dangerous fire approaching. Luckily, winds kicked up and a storm rolled in, and all is still well in the magical backyard hive. 


You continue to amaze me with your progress and your gentleness. I know that each of you has five eyes, and there are tens of thousands of bees in a healthy hive. That's probably at least 50,000 eyes in that hive. What do you see? Do you see me when I  come sit and watch you almost every day? On the days when I'm sad and the days when I'm smiling? Do you see that sometimes I have a visitor? Do you see the people of the neighborhood moving in and out of their homes? Do you see the squirrels and the birds? Do you see flowers growing in slow motion? 


I like to watch how you land on the landing board at the entrance of the hive. Some of you are very graceful and calculated, flying straight into the entrance without even landing on the board first. Others seem to be a bit more like me, coming in at full speed and crashing onto the landing board, sometimes rolling upside down, legs kicking with all their might until you are right side up again. Since you came from a package, you aren't all related bees. I wonder if this grace is an inherited trait, and if the bees being born now in the hive will have it. 


Life is sort of strange lately, dear bees, and you are constant. This is one of many things I love about you. Now I look at every patch of clover as I walk by with the dog and I smile when I see you there. Even though I don't think one can truly own bees, I feel as though you are mine.


Love,
Sarah