Country Mouse Monday: Do, Know, bees...

It’s a glorious morning here on the farm, the birds already raising their ruckus at 5:45am. It’s been light for ages, and it looks like it’s going to be another scorcher.

In just a few hours, a friend is stopping by to see the bees – to actually suit up in the spare bee-gear I keep on hand and inspect the hives with me – so I’m excited in advance, anticipating her delight when she, finally, after wishing and wanting for so long, gets to use her hands to see inside.

It’s a funny thing, this yearning for bees that so many of us have.

I understand the pull so well, having felt it myself for so long, for so many years, before we finally took the plunge. I read everything, but knew that it was one of those things that only hands-on experience could teach.

And oh, how I wanted to get my hands in.

I'm delighted that I get to accompany someone from metaphor to reality, from all that bees represent in our imaginations to what they are actually like. Such a pleasure for me to serve as guide, such a good reminder, every time, of what I've learned through years of practice.

To really know something, you have to do it. Over and over again.

Because it's so hot, we'll don our bee-gear early, as close to 9am as possible, when the temps are a comfortable 60. Standing around suited-up when it's any hotter can be so uncomfortable, and a first experience should, in as much as it's possible to control for comfort, be as easeful as possible.

We'll start small, opening the swarm-box, ie., the bees that swarmed off a neighbor's hive a month or so ago. Knowing those busy girls, we'll be adding a super today -- another hive-box, that is -- after checking that they've filled all ten existing frames with new comb and that the Queen is laying. I don't doubt that everything will look great and strong in that colony, judging from previous inspections and their very busy flight pattern, the full pollenbaskets on the landing board.

From there, we may, as time and comfort permit, move on to the big colony, to check the honey super, possibly pull a frame or two of capped honey, and add another honey super. Those girls, at last inspection last week, are going gangbusters.

And then, if we're very lucky, we'll eat fresh honey, sealing in the experience in that final, best way, the taste of the hive in our mouths.

I won't be humming my usual nonsense to the girls this morning, since I'll be explaining things to Chrissy as we go, in as mellifluous a tone as possible, to keep her and the bees comfy and calm.

But no matter what we see in either colony when we open them up this morning, I'll be remembering Laline Paull's magnificent debut novel, The Bees, which so charmed me last week.

I know I said that Doing is the true path to Knowing, but you still need to read!

Don't miss this great book, this Watership Down for bees, this expose of the sometimes Game of Thrones-nature of this remarkable insect world. Paull does such a fine job of mixing science and imagination, creating a tale that brings the rules of the colony to life. I can't stop thinking about the relationship between bees and the flowers they serve, thanks to Paull's beautiful descriptions. Read it!

And if you're nearby, come see us, me and the bees. I would love to hand you a bee-suit and gloves, show you how to light the smoker, watch the look on your face when we take the cover off the hive and you get your first glimpse in.

If not, I leave you with this dreamy video from Sunday morning, bees at play in the poppies, using their "hands" and everything they've got, deeply knowing that flower. ;>

XX