Spring Arising, Despite Things, Things Get Better and Better
Its exciting and fun to see Spring start popping up - after a very long and dreary winter, and a very tough Fall (for me at least). And- despite the threat of pandemic in the world, of economic collapse, of too many people and too little room.. despite that, I'm pretty happy. Which is odd- not my regular m.o.
I sorted some things out in my life- made it simpler- got rid of some baggage that was wearying and negative, and am focusing on smaller, but positive, things. Like bees. Its a great pleasure.
Plus- I passed the 60 mark, and pretty much count on coasting from here on in- no kids, parents dead, family spread far and wide. Its easier to focus. I have a tiny tiny circle, a small radius around my house, and I rarely leave it. Sounds odd, I am sure, but it works for me. At one point I had grander plans, to make a new life, but now, this one seems like quite enough. Quiet, small town, good neighbors, and simple things to do.
A lot of that happiness is bees. Sure, they are threatened this year with the most horrible thing ever, an absolutely gigantic hornet from Japan that is likely to spread like wild fire, and likely to destroy beekeeping here entirely if its not stopped this year. And though I'm no scientist, it sure seems unlikely that it can be stopped. But despite that, I still look forward to the season, and the challenges. There's nothing like it.
Everything changes, its just how it is. So easy to say, but tough to get used to. Things that were great, can turn bad. On a dime. There's no accounting for any of it, or going back. Like some sort of pendulum inherit in all things. Its a hard lesson.
In my front yard, two treasured huge Snowball Viburnums succumbed to another Asian pest, a voracious and horrible beetle,and last week I cut down both of these beautiful trees (shrubs, but they were ancient and huge), and destroyed them, due to the beetle. No cure, no predator of the beetle, the end of "grandma" Snowballs everywhere in the world. The world out of balance, and churning, and it is happening- this destroying and falling apart, every where now.
A dark view I know, but when one turns off the greater world, and is in the beeyard solving problems, doing chores, helping bees survive, trying to apply what one knows to make honey and healthy bees- that's all enough. All enough to end one's days with (unless the hornet takes this all away), and be content. Bees, old books, sitting on the stoop with my cat and a glass of wine playing guitar, pruning apples...that's pretty much the whole of it. Boring I guess, but I've done enough already to know that it very much isn't, and is quite enough.
Today I melted comb to extract wax. Maybe 5-10 pounds? An amazing thing to do. Out of old brown comb beautiful clean yellow wax arises- its really something. I don't even know what wax is- its like its own thing- waxy. What the heck is wax? Yet it bubbles out, an essential component in a bee hive (but not in a hornet hive- or any other hive that I know of), and its yellow and bright- like honey actually, and like most pollen too. The color of the sun. It just seems like more or a coincidence than is possible- all these things the color of the sun. But beekeeping is endlessly- truly- like that- one surprise after the other, one delightful thing after the other.
And it's very much a joy I look forward to, and seeing the early flowers and the bees pouring out of their hives, is a great pleasure. Its my 25th year of doing this, and it gets better every year.
I sorted some things out in my life- made it simpler- got rid of some baggage that was wearying and negative, and am focusing on smaller, but positive, things. Like bees. Its a great pleasure.
Plus- I passed the 60 mark, and pretty much count on coasting from here on in- no kids, parents dead, family spread far and wide. Its easier to focus. I have a tiny tiny circle, a small radius around my house, and I rarely leave it. Sounds odd, I am sure, but it works for me. At one point I had grander plans, to make a new life, but now, this one seems like quite enough. Quiet, small town, good neighbors, and simple things to do.
A lot of that happiness is bees. Sure, they are threatened this year with the most horrible thing ever, an absolutely gigantic hornet from Japan that is likely to spread like wild fire, and likely to destroy beekeeping here entirely if its not stopped this year. And though I'm no scientist, it sure seems unlikely that it can be stopped. But despite that, I still look forward to the season, and the challenges. There's nothing like it.
Everything changes, its just how it is. So easy to say, but tough to get used to. Things that were great, can turn bad. On a dime. There's no accounting for any of it, or going back. Like some sort of pendulum inherit in all things. Its a hard lesson.
In my front yard, two treasured huge Snowball Viburnums succumbed to another Asian pest, a voracious and horrible beetle,and last week I cut down both of these beautiful trees (shrubs, but they were ancient and huge), and destroyed them, due to the beetle. No cure, no predator of the beetle, the end of "grandma" Snowballs everywhere in the world. The world out of balance, and churning, and it is happening- this destroying and falling apart, every where now.
A dark view I know, but when one turns off the greater world, and is in the beeyard solving problems, doing chores, helping bees survive, trying to apply what one knows to make honey and healthy bees- that's all enough. All enough to end one's days with (unless the hornet takes this all away), and be content. Bees, old books, sitting on the stoop with my cat and a glass of wine playing guitar, pruning apples...that's pretty much the whole of it. Boring I guess, but I've done enough already to know that it very much isn't, and is quite enough.
Today I melted comb to extract wax. Maybe 5-10 pounds? An amazing thing to do. Out of old brown comb beautiful clean yellow wax arises- its really something. I don't even know what wax is- its like its own thing- waxy. What the heck is wax? Yet it bubbles out, an essential component in a bee hive (but not in a hornet hive- or any other hive that I know of), and its yellow and bright- like honey actually, and like most pollen too. The color of the sun. It just seems like more or a coincidence than is possible- all these things the color of the sun. But beekeeping is endlessly- truly- like that- one surprise after the other, one delightful thing after the other.
And it's very much a joy I look forward to, and seeing the early flowers and the bees pouring out of their hives, is a great pleasure. Its my 25th year of doing this, and it gets better every year.
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