I pay a lot of attention to honeybees these days. They work, work, work: their lives regimented by their age and circumstances of birth. Then they die and are replaced by others. But now and then I see a honeybee fooling around, doing nothing obviously useful, flouting the common perception of what bees do. This summer a swarm of bees built a hive out in the open on the branch of a big fir tree. It thrived as the bees built 18” pendants of honeycomb. Then the weather turned. Wind buffeted the hive. Rain came and the temperature dropped. They have no protection out on that limb. They're all dying now, falling one by one into a pile on the ground where yellow jackets hover and cruise, waiting.
I don’t know why, but they tried to do something different. I don’t know if it was courage or foolishness, and it doesn’t really matter. For a couple of months they had the most beautiful hive I’ve ever seen. And they were going to die anyway.
I don’t know why, but they tried to do something different. I don’t know if it was courage or foolishness, and it doesn’t really matter. For a couple of months they had the most beautiful hive I’ve ever seen. And they were going to die anyway.
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