Thank you Winnie for your support, it means a lot to me, having you here. And everyone else, Welcome! I would like to have an adventure, lets walk down a trail and see what magic we can find, want to? There may be portals between the hedgerows and the corn fields so keep a good eye open. Whichever path we take let's keep nature close by our side and our hearts tuned to the divine, shall we? I have a feeling it's going to be grand. I'll meet you here by the blue door.
Sunday, August 22, 2004
A Whole New World
by Trendle Ellwood
I was washing up honey jars in the kitchen sink when I got to thinking about what the now retired bee-keeper Mr. Burgeaff said to me one day while we were talking with him. My husband was buying some of his old bee equipment when Mr. Burgeaff, with his kind gentlemanly smile, looked right at me, a new bee-keepers wife, and he gave me this prediction “ You are about to enter a whole new world.”
How intriguing, I thought at the time.
My husband interrupted my thoughts as he came through the kitchen to grab some pails to take down the road to the bramble patch. I finished up the jars and went out the kitchen door to take some scraps to the chickens. It was then that I heard the hum. The unmistakable roar of a swarm of bees. I looked up to see a large loose mass of them swirling above the apiary. I could tell that they had not been away from their mother hive for long as they were still in the wide-open scattered stage. Some of them were flying out and then back again to the nucleus of the swarm. The way the whole group of bees appears to roll always reminds me of a hurricane.
As I watched this honeybee hurricane I let the wonder of it wash over me, soaked it in for a moment there in our back yard, the thrill of the honeybee in swarm. I never cease to be awed by the fellowship of a swarm. The power of all of those bees of one mind intrigues me. They are going free, anxious to be independent of the mother hive. It gives me a feeling of new inspiration; watching those offshoots, making their multiplying flight. I knew that my husband would want to know about our bee hurricane and that if he could get to them in time he might be able to retrieve these run-away honey bees. Our daughter came around the smoke house corner exclaiming, “ Mom! A swarm!”
If you want things to get exciting around our house, you detect a swarm. Mercy! Then things will start happening! I took off down towards the black raspberry patch, after my husband. His berry picking was quickly dropped when we brought him the news.
The bees were looking for an acceptable place to temporarily land. A staging spot from where they could scout for their new home. Those who have researched honeybees say that they communicate through dancing. When a bee has found a good place, she tells the other bees all about it by prancing in front of them excitingly. The other bees can tell how good of a place this bee thinks she has found by the intensity of her dance.
The bees must have found a spot that they liked ok because they began to congregate. When they get together they come to a tight little group, which the beekeepers call a cluster. This time the cluster was on the over hanging branch of the white pine which stands shading our apiary from the hot afternoon sun As a cluster, they looked like a dark vortex hanging in the shape of an old fashioned ice cream cone. It looked as if the pine tree had grown a huge pinecone. By this time my husband had gotten his ladder and he asked me hold it as he shinnied up the arbor. He placed his swarm bucket, which he carried with him, as close as he could to the swarm of bees.
I was just hoping the whole time that the trellis was good and sturdy and that he would not come crashing through it. I was reassuring myself in a conversation in my head, thinking, “ Yes he made the arbor for the Wisteria, after all, and Wisteria can pull down houses which I know he knows and so I am sure that he made it strong!”
In the next second, any concerns that I had for my spouse as he tight roped across the Wisteria arbor were put on the back burner. Because in my ear was the unmistakable song of a frantic trapped bee. I had one caught in my hair! I could hear the little bee’s song rising in intensity and frustration as she became more and more imbedded within my curly brown hair. I imagined what it was going to feel like being stung in the brain. I told my husband of my predicament hoping that he might have some good suggestions, but all he said was, “ I hate it when they do that, darn!” and, “ they like fuzzy stuff.”
I abandoned my ladder holding occupation and went towards the house. I tried flipping my hair over and upside down hoping to shake the trapped insect out of my web of hair. I found our daughter and begged her to help me get this bee out of my hair! She kept saying, “ Where Mom? Where?” as I pointed towards the spot where the bee seemed to be inching closer and closer, by the second, towards my scalp. Finally she spotted the bee and I swear she has been hanging around that beekeeping Father of hers too much, because while I had a bee about ready to sting my brain, she paused! She paused to wonder if she should kill the bee! The words that passed through her lips were, “ Well Mom I hate to kill the poor little thing.”
HONEY, I exclaimed to her with my head of hair upside down bobbling in front of her. WILL YOU JUST KILL THE BEE! It is then that she sees my frantic state and she puts two books together and claps them on the section of my hair that is vibrating with buzz. “ Well you are going to have bee parts all in your hair.” She tells me.
I am wondering if she thinks having bee parts in my hair is ANYTHING compared to having a mad bee in your hair. I could not wait to get to that part of my life where I might be worrying about bee parts in my hair! Oh and how wonderful if there were not an ice pack over a bee sting in the same picture with the bee parts. I sighed with relief when after another clang of the books the buzzing near my brain was stilled. I felt bad too, thinking if I had not been so scared maybe we could have helped the little bee weave out of the web that I had set for her. All I knew for sure was that I planned to know where a bee hat and veil were the next time I helped with a swarm!
With a grabbed blanket over my head I went out to check on Husband. He had completed his task and I held the ladder for him as he came down. Ah! We were both Ok. Actually he was radiant from having been a part of the bee convention. I think a touch of their vitality invigorates his soul. He excitedly told me that he had been able to shake the branch and had captured the queen in his bait hive. The joy in him brought a big smile to my face. Yes I Mr. Burgeaff I thought as my husband told me of his adventure, You were right, I entered into a whole new world when my spouse became a bee keeper. I entered into a world full of risks, surprises, lessons and most of all, a world full of many wonders.
Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.
I was washing up honey jars in the kitchen sink when I got to thinking about what the now retired bee-keeper Mr. Burgeaff said to me one day while we were talking with him. My husband was buying some of his old bee equipment when Mr. Burgeaff, with his kind gentlemanly smile, looked right at me, a new bee-keepers wife, and he gave me this prediction “ You are about to enter a whole new world.”
How intriguing, I thought at the time.
My husband interrupted my thoughts as he came through the kitchen to grab some pails to take down the road to the bramble patch. I finished up the jars and went out the kitchen door to take some scraps to the chickens. It was then that I heard the hum. The unmistakable roar of a swarm of bees. I looked up to see a large loose mass of them swirling above the apiary. I could tell that they had not been away from their mother hive for long as they were still in the wide-open scattered stage. Some of them were flying out and then back again to the nucleus of the swarm. The way the whole group of bees appears to roll always reminds me of a hurricane.
As I watched this honeybee hurricane I let the wonder of it wash over me, soaked it in for a moment there in our back yard, the thrill of the honeybee in swarm. I never cease to be awed by the fellowship of a swarm. The power of all of those bees of one mind intrigues me. They are going free, anxious to be independent of the mother hive. It gives me a feeling of new inspiration; watching those offshoots, making their multiplying flight. I knew that my husband would want to know about our bee hurricane and that if he could get to them in time he might be able to retrieve these run-away honey bees. Our daughter came around the smoke house corner exclaiming, “ Mom! A swarm!”
If you want things to get exciting around our house, you detect a swarm. Mercy! Then things will start happening! I took off down towards the black raspberry patch, after my husband. His berry picking was quickly dropped when we brought him the news.
The bees were looking for an acceptable place to temporarily land. A staging spot from where they could scout for their new home. Those who have researched honeybees say that they communicate through dancing. When a bee has found a good place, she tells the other bees all about it by prancing in front of them excitingly. The other bees can tell how good of a place this bee thinks she has found by the intensity of her dance.
The bees must have found a spot that they liked ok because they began to congregate. When they get together they come to a tight little group, which the beekeepers call a cluster. This time the cluster was on the over hanging branch of the white pine which stands shading our apiary from the hot afternoon sun As a cluster, they looked like a dark vortex hanging in the shape of an old fashioned ice cream cone. It looked as if the pine tree had grown a huge pinecone. By this time my husband had gotten his ladder and he asked me hold it as he shinnied up the arbor. He placed his swarm bucket, which he carried with him, as close as he could to the swarm of bees.
I was just hoping the whole time that the trellis was good and sturdy and that he would not come crashing through it. I was reassuring myself in a conversation in my head, thinking, “ Yes he made the arbor for the Wisteria, after all, and Wisteria can pull down houses which I know he knows and so I am sure that he made it strong!”
In the next second, any concerns that I had for my spouse as he tight roped across the Wisteria arbor were put on the back burner. Because in my ear was the unmistakable song of a frantic trapped bee. I had one caught in my hair! I could hear the little bee’s song rising in intensity and frustration as she became more and more imbedded within my curly brown hair. I imagined what it was going to feel like being stung in the brain. I told my husband of my predicament hoping that he might have some good suggestions, but all he said was, “ I hate it when they do that, darn!” and, “ they like fuzzy stuff.”
I abandoned my ladder holding occupation and went towards the house. I tried flipping my hair over and upside down hoping to shake the trapped insect out of my web of hair. I found our daughter and begged her to help me get this bee out of my hair! She kept saying, “ Where Mom? Where?” as I pointed towards the spot where the bee seemed to be inching closer and closer, by the second, towards my scalp. Finally she spotted the bee and I swear she has been hanging around that beekeeping Father of hers too much, because while I had a bee about ready to sting my brain, she paused! She paused to wonder if she should kill the bee! The words that passed through her lips were, “ Well Mom I hate to kill the poor little thing.”
HONEY, I exclaimed to her with my head of hair upside down bobbling in front of her. WILL YOU JUST KILL THE BEE! It is then that she sees my frantic state and she puts two books together and claps them on the section of my hair that is vibrating with buzz. “ Well you are going to have bee parts all in your hair.” She tells me.
I am wondering if she thinks having bee parts in my hair is ANYTHING compared to having a mad bee in your hair. I could not wait to get to that part of my life where I might be worrying about bee parts in my hair! Oh and how wonderful if there were not an ice pack over a bee sting in the same picture with the bee parts. I sighed with relief when after another clang of the books the buzzing near my brain was stilled. I felt bad too, thinking if I had not been so scared maybe we could have helped the little bee weave out of the web that I had set for her. All I knew for sure was that I planned to know where a bee hat and veil were the next time I helped with a swarm!
With a grabbed blanket over my head I went out to check on Husband. He had completed his task and I held the ladder for him as he came down. Ah! We were both Ok. Actually he was radiant from having been a part of the bee convention. I think a touch of their vitality invigorates his soul. He excitedly told me that he had been able to shake the branch and had captured the queen in his bait hive. The joy in him brought a big smile to my face. Yes I Mr. Burgeaff I thought as my husband told me of his adventure, You were right, I entered into a whole new world when my spouse became a bee keeper. I entered into a world full of risks, surprises, lessons and most of all, a world full of many wonders.
Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.
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