photo by Dustin Hume
When
one’s routine is broken, it’s a shock, like being blinded by a bolt of
lightning. Our lives are much the same every day, and we rely on the unbroken
stream of monotony. It makes us feel safe. We had found a new place for our
hive, inside the hollowed-out base of a tree on a residential street. It was
spacious, though dark, and we liked the sanctuary of the internal body of the
tree. As it was mid-summer, our honey production was going well, and the queen
was satisfied with our work.
One
day, when I was on guard duty, we saw two bright yellow signs around the tree
which said, “DANGER – BEES / ABEJAS! - County Vector Control.” I guess we had
encroached on human territory. It’s known lore that they fear us, but can’t
live without us. We females continued working - building, protecting, cleaning
the hive and removing waste, circulating the air by beating our wings, foraging
for nectar and feeding the brood.
Then
the fateful day came. I was processing nectar when I heard the angry alarm of
humming which rose in volume. A noxious yellow foam oozed through our entrance,
and darkness surrounded us. We backed up to the walls of our hive to avoid the
toxic smell. And then we realized that we could not exit. The news made its way
to our queen who did not take it well, and the drones surrounded her, trying to
soothe her. It became hard to breathe. We had to get out to save our lives, but
there was no other path! We stopped buzzing and were silent and still. We had
to think of a solution. Were there any other holes in the tree to the outside,
however tiny? Thousands of us were still out there working - what would happen
when they came back home, legs laden with pollen?
Fresh,
clear air was all we wanted to feel, but knew we were starting to suffocate.
The ghastly truth was becoming known to us, and we began to panic, ricocheting
blindly against the narrow walls and each other. The flowers I might never see
again: the lavender with its heavy intoxicating scent, the implausibly pink
cosmos that lifted my spirits, the blue hydrangea which enveloped me in its
trance-inducing beauty. And I thought of Melissa, out there floating around
with liberty. When I first laid eyes on her, I thought she was divine – petite,
with her five luminous eyes, her beautifully defined stripes, and her sexy
hairy legs. She had the unusual scent of another colony’s bees.
I
still had about four more weeks to live and finish producing my lifetime amount
of honey, about the size of 6 ladybugs. How I missed a typical day, with our
buzzing in the key of C, the gals and I constructing the comb with wax from
glands on our abdomen, which was a pleasing feeling and my favorite thing to
do. Soon, it was to be my turn to feed royal jelly to the queen, something I’ve
waited so long for, but I’m afraid that chance will not come. Would I ever fly
freely in the sunshine and see the endless sky again?
Bee facts:
Bees have
existed for 100 million years.
One-third
of food humans eat is the result of bee pollination.
Honey is
antibacterial, antimicrobial, and anti-inflammatory.
3,000-year-old
honey was found in King Tut’s tomb, which was still edible.
Source: bestbees.com
