The Bee Whisperer

Afterward, as I was holding an ice cube to my eye, Anthony said, "It's just like if a giant took the roof off our house and said, 'Oh, look! Isn't that cute? They've almost finished the bathroom! And then the giant started going for the chicken parmigiana. If we had guns, we'd shoot him."

I was planting La Ratte potatoes in the garden when Judy and Mac pulled up. I'd lured them out to the farm with my web blog stories (voila) and they'd come to check out the action. As I tried to find words later, ('Stupid' was just too easy.) 'reckless', 'impulsive', 'show-off' came to mind. Mac kindly volunteered 'over-confident.'

But back to the potato bed. Despite dirt-caked hands I gave Jude a hug and we stood beside the dwarf apple tree looking out over my labors. The electric fence posts are up; she commented on the colorfully painted hives and we walked back. The bee suit was in the garage across the lawn in the opposite direction. Too far to trouble going back.

We approached the hives, and Mac wisely kept her distance; Judy ventured only a little closer.

I removed the top cover and empty top hive body, and we could see through the oblong hole in the inner cover several bees moving around in the lower hive body, focused on their tasks. Judy asked if all the workers were females and I began to brag about how of course they are female as I lifted the inner cover fully off the hive.

We could now see dozens of bees scurrying over the tops of the ten frames. Hive bodies are open boxes containing ten frames. (Imagine ten windows inserted parallel to one another inside an empty box. Instead of glass panes the frames contain beeswax cells filled with honey, pollen or brood. ) In order to truly admire the natural genius and industy of the honeybee, it is necessary to lift the frames out of the hive body. On each frame one will see comb, produced with wax from the bees' abdomens and shaped by them into precise hexagonal cells, later filled with brood (larva), uncured honey, capped honey and pollen of a variety of colors. The surface of the comb is thickly covered with hundreds of bees. (A hive is comprised of between 10,000 and 35,000 bees.)

Proud my husbandry and their industry, I lifted a single frame from the hive body to point out these various features to Judy. What? Was I stupid?!

Dozens of defenders flew onto my face, my bare arms, into my hair. I felt a sting on my arm, eyelid, shoulder, scalp, back, my arm, arm, ear, ear, arm. When a honeybee stings she excretes alarm pheromone that labels her victim 'enemy'. The pheromone, which in high concentrations is detectable by humans, is said to smell a little like bananas.

As I quickly retreated from the hive up to the house, the water spigot and Joe, I tried to detect it, and was comforted in a small degree that after sustaining forty or more stings, I did not smell bananas. I knelt under the faucet, ran cold water over my head and the drama was ended.

Then came the fussing and scolding from Joe, inspecting the swellings, administering ice, the swearing to demolish the hives if I was going to be so reckless. I defended my attackers and greatly chagrined, carried on entertaining my friends.