Ode to a Sweet Remembrance

Why doth the busy little bee Make so yum her sweet honie?
Why on a glorious May-time morn Go forth and leave her queen forlorn?
Leave bereft the Empress Bee To ask, "Will # 57, 482 return to me?"
 Why brave the danger, take the chance? To play her role in spring time's dance!
Her courage firm, she doth take wing (Remembering, tho, to pack her sting).
No felon nigh, she soars on high
To seek the gold this day should bring.
Her sisters young in hive remain
Not to shirk, but work the same,
Cleaning combs and nursing brood
Humming in contented mood.
Guarding honey, making more
Saving up a winter's store.
As Virgil is content to note (In a poem, to be learned by rote)
With flowing couplets (once said to rhyme (but rendered blankly for our time):
"The work goes busily forward, And the fragrant honey is redolent of thyme." [And this is strange, because the bees have been working locust.]
Why doth the busy little bee? For the hive, or you and me?
Let us knock and ask one day. We tried; she chased us far away.
Better ask, Why doth the white-robed bearded man Veil on head, tools in hand,
Come softly, softly to this throne. His silent plea, 'leave me alone!'
 Incense offered, prayer attained: ["Incense": smoke, of course] Bees' ire kept restrained.
 What does he seek beneath the crown of the bees' stupendous town?
Honey sweet this shepherd's meat; Some to sell, some to eat.
Enough, he hopes, his bills to meet. (The latter would be quite a feat.)
This orb around her mistress Sun
Many times has made her run
Since first the man took up the veil;
And so at last his strength grew pale. Fewer are the times he comes.
His mind is bent on other sums.
Someday (soon?) this work shall be for him but a fond memory.

 The above poem has been well received by dukes, earls, potentates and various other and sundry princes of the realm. Of these, one high school teacher went so far as to hold it up to her literature class for their admiration or other attentions.

A Treatise on the Winter Care of Bees

When it's cold outside, a beekeeper tends to worry about his bees. This is probably because that's about all he can do for them. He could take them to Florida for a two week vacation, but he is too cheap and lazy to do so. Also he would have to buy some Florida swampland for that, because Sunshine State campgrounds do not have such sunny dispositions when it comes to welcoming beehives. This prejudice is sad, and shows we have a long way to go in this nation as regards species relations.

Anyway, a two-week Florida vacation would probably be bad for the bees, because they would see how the other half lives, and regret their own hard lot in life. Contented humming would forever after be a stranger to their hives. But there is nothing to stop the beekeeper from dreaming about moving his bees (not to mention himself too) to Florida for the whole winter. I intend to actually do this (to move, not to dream about it), as soon as I make enough money to do so from keeping bees. Hah hah. Actually I plan to win the lottery, and keep bees as long as the money holds out. (This is an old joke. I've always had a hard time laughing at it, but thought I'd give it another try.) One obstacle to wintering in Florida is getting past all the beekeepers associations' militias guarding the border.

If you ever want to see how frail a thing is the brotherhood of man, just ask any Florida beekeeper if he knows a nearby place where you could bring your bees. If you had read beekeeping magazines 90 or so years ago (Don't ask to borrow mine. My mother threw them out when she was cleaning the attic.), you would have learned from sundry Floridia beekeepers that their state was a veritable year-round Paradise for beekeeping. Article followed upon enthusiastic article extolling the excellence of all things Florida, bee-wise. But then there followed a dearth of articles on Sunshine State beekeeping. This hiatus lasted about ten years. Then the articles resumed; but with an unfamiliar note. It now seemed there were problems, yes, and sundry obstacles, for mistaken adventurers seeking the golden (or any other color) honey of Florida. The way of beekeeping in Florida was now presented as problematical, as an uphill effort; it was another strain laid upon the backs of the sons of Adam. Exactly what had changed in the previous ten years was not exactly made perfectly clear, for the erudition (or otherwise) of the reader, but the ominous tenor was unmistakable: when it came to beekeeping, dark clouds covered the erstwhile sunny skies of America's Orangebasket. Alas, I have a suspicious soul. As persuasive as the second series of articles sounded, it occured to me that maybe, just maybe, Florida beekeepers (having had belated second thoughts when faced with the worrysome migration they had brought upon themselves) had taken counsel together and persuaded their scribes to sharpen their pencils with a different slant, so as to try to stem the advancing tide of the northern barbarian hoards.

But I wish to make it clear that I hold no grievance of any kind against the state of Florida. Yes, it is true that their sales tax and gasoline prices are leveraged so as to unrightfully shift the burden of revenue enhancement from the pockets of residents to those of the innocent visitors to that state. But who would have the churlishness to grudge them this, given the unstinting entertainment their voters afforded a rapt nation in the 2000 presidential election? Who can forget, who can not forever be grateful for, the hanging chad, the dimpled chad, the upside down chad, the inside out chad? The convoy of ballot boxes, solemnly proceding from, well, from one place to another? Judge overruling judge, and overruled again? There was humor in the earth, in those days.

Tired of jokes? For real advice on winter hive management, see Maintaining Bee Hives Over Winter.

Or, Return to Honey Bees Guide home.