At the time of this writing, I have been beekeeping for just over three years and am managing 18 colonies and growing. With working nights and weekends, the best time for me to perform hive inspections is first thing in the morning on Wednesdays, when my work week is now complete. I began realizing how much I look forward to these Wednesday mornings and how much my week seems like it is simply leading up to that. So, after a long work week and being tired from the night of work before, I look forward to spending a couple more hours of work in the bee yard? Doesn't make sense when you say it out loud. This began me down the road of true thought as to why I am so passionate about beekeeping. What follows is my best explanation of the true romance of beekeeping.
As mentioned above, I spend time in my bee yard every Wednesday morning. The morning starts with me getting changed from the night of work before and loading up the truck with the needed equipment. This includes buckets of water to refill the bee yard watering station, spare deep boxes with frames in case a colony needs an increase, spare nuc boxes with frames in case of an emergency split or the finding of a swarm, various tools and my protective equipment. My excitement begins to build at this point.
I begin my short trip to the bee yard, as I am fortunate enough to live fairly close to a good location. During my scenic morning drive I am thinking of the tasks to come. I am thinking of what condition I will find my ladies in and what problems may arise. The excitement begins to build more as my trip is simply a blur. At this point, I am on autopilot while so deep in thought.
I arrive to the bee yard and this is where my senses really kick in. I drive up and immediately begin to see all the wonderful activity at each hive. I pull out the bee suit and begin to put it on as I hear the happy buzzing of the ever productive colonies nearby. The sights and sounds are an immediate relief. You see, I have had my colonies almost completely destroyed in the past by a very aggressive storm. I have never forgotten that gut destroying feeling of walking out to see my colonies knocked over and in distress. So seeing that my colonies all appear well is such a wonderful feeling each and every time I visit.
Once I have dressed in my bee suit, I grab the heavy buckets of water and start to lug them to the watering station. I give my ladies the much needed water source here in the Arizona desert. I unload a couple buckets I use to carry my various tools to include frame grips, hive tool, smoker, smoker fuel and more. This is when I get my first good look at my colonies. I begin to see the activity at each colony and am pleased by the sight as the ladies are flying in and out by the hundreds.
Finally I get to open the first colony. This is when the sensory overload truly takes place. The crack of the propolis as I pry the top up, the roar of the ladies below as they feel the disturbance, that beautiful sweet smell that every beekeeper has learned to love hits you in the face as you remove the top and set it to the side, the sight of all these beautiful little creatures staring back at you from the tops of the frames....a completely euphoric experience.
I work my way down the line, colony by colony, making mental notes to transcribe later. I see colonies progressing in growth and begin to realize the "personalities" of each colony. Some colonies build queen cup after queen cup, no matter how many times I have destroyed them, with no signs of them being used for a new queen. Some colonies fill the top bars of the frames with cross comb and propolis while others keep things as neat and tidy as I prefer. Some colonies "boil up", covering the tops of the frames with thousands of bees, while others scurry downwards. Some colonies remain calm and content to continue to work, some immediately protest my presence as they send out their "representatives" to discuss their grievances closely while bouncing off my veil while others allow my intrusion momentarily, only beginning to get "impatient" towards the end of my inspection of that colony.
My senses are continuously challenged as I attempt to process them all. The beautiful sweet smell is now complimented with the waft of occasional smoke from my smoker. Every move I make is matched by the soft roar of the ladies not so eager to have their work interrupted. The frequent need to roll chunks of propolis from my gloves. The occasional drip of sweat running down my brow. All theses senses make for an interesting experience, to say the least.
Finally, I complete my tasks for the day and return home, though very tired, satisfied with all that I have experienced. I unload the truck and put away my equipment, taking note of what I may have used and the condition of my current stockpile of spare equipment. It was a good day, as is every Wednesday is for me.
This, however, is not where my romance with beekeeping ends. Truth be told, my passion carries through every day of the week. My days are consumed, in between responsibilities to family and work, with further research and preparation for my beekeeping adventure. I research various queen producers, list and plan for future equipment, crunch numbers in a futile attempt to "justify" this venture....it never ends. I am completely immersed in the topic.
You will notice that certain topics, topics that most would associate with beekeeping, have been omitted from my explanation of the beekeeping experience. I could talk about the excitement and pride during your first honey harvest and each harvest to follow. I could talk about the elation of getting swarm calls. I could talk about the anticipation for splits planned for the future. Though all are very valid reasons to have passion for this beekeeping adventure, they are truly fleeting moments in the grand scheme of things. I think the real passion, at least for many beekeepers, comes from the daily or weekly activities. These constant moments are where the real romance shines through. This is where the truly passionate beekeeper finds their inner peace. This is our bliss.
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