Vive la Reine Bleu

The nights are drawing in now and it gets too dark to share a beekeeping visit with Tom and Liz after they get home from work.  And I have rearranged my life to finish work early anyway, so I slip away at half past three and head home, ostensibly to study and go to gym but depression still has me in its evil grip, so mostly I go home to eat and grieve.

I take every opportunity I can to get out of the office now, too.  So today I have come to lunch with the bees.  They make me happy.  The last few times I've visited, I've stopped in astonishment - so much activity!  Each entrance is filled with bees rushing to and fro, in and out, out and away.  Their legs are full of golden orange pollen.  They march in rows, queuing to get in and out of the hive.  They whizz away, ignoring me in their flight path.  Their path is fixed and clear - you can watch them go straight up and away; I always wonder where they're headed.

Every year I forget that, in autumn, they tend to smash stuff onto their legs, stuffing as much pollen as possible into their baskets, hoarding and working and collecting and storing.  Brave bees.  They know what's coming ... the cold, the grey, the miserable.  How will we make it through!?  With every sweet thing comes the thought of the bitter.  Autumn is glorious, but winter is just round the corner.  The bees make me happy, but they're here and not there - at the bottom of my garden.   Tis hard to maintain a cheerful air; the autumn crisp, blue sky loveliness helps, so do the bees.

And a few weeks ago Tom helped too.  He's a bit like me - unable to contain his curiosity.  So while I was away, and he was inspecting his bees, he peeked inside the Death Star.  This is what I had taken to calling my hive.  They were so fiercely angry I literally couldn't get in there without being stung about fifty times.  They were in a difficult transition period because I had inadvertently saved the old Green Queen.  One afternoon I found Her lying on the ground in front of the hive - it was ridiculously amazing and accidental.  I just couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Her there and, because I loved Her so much, I scooped Her up and popped Her back in the hive.  Unfortunately there was a new Queen in there too, so they must have had a difficult time of it.  That is, until they finally managed to get the old Queen killed or thrown out successfully.  You know, when the Dumb Human Beekeeper wasn't around ...

Then Tom popped his head in while I was away, taking his life in his hands, only to find them as calm as kittens.  They'd killed the old Queen and the new Queen was laying, and all was well with the hive.  We call it Queen-Right.  And more than that, he found Her.  I bet he had a moment of hesitation, wondering whether to leave Her for me to mark.  But he did what I would've done; reached in, held Her gently and painted Her with a lavish and lovely blue mark.  

Vive la Reine Bleu!

Last week I suited up, lit the smoker and went in by myself.  They were not aggressive but definitely on the alert, so I didn't stay long.  I felt my heart leap with delight, and no end of pride, to see that they had drawn all the foundation in the super and absolutely stuffed it full of honey.  You beauties!  Set fair for the winter, then.