Nobody mentioned the bees during the property walk. The previous owners walked us past the orchard, past the pond, past the spot where the foundation is definitely going to need work eventually, and somewhere between “and there’s a great spot for a smoker over here” and “the well is around the back,” a sentence happened that I now believe was: “…oh, and there’s a hive in the lilacs.”
Reader, there was a hive in the lilacs.
Day 1: respect.
My first move was to give them about thirty feet of personal space, which turned out to be the correct move. My second move was to call someone who actually knew what they were doing — a retired beekeeper two towns over who showed up the next morning in a pickup truck, looked at the hive for about ninety seconds, and said, “Yeah, they’re fine. Don’t mow there.” I haven’t mowed there.
Bees don’t need a beekeeper. A beekeeper needs the bees to be okay with them.— our mentor, calmly, while not wearing a veil
What the bees have taught me so far.
Slow down. Bees do not respond well to a fast, stressed human. They respond well to a slow, boring human. I am now striving to be a slow, boring human in their immediate vicinity. (Joe says I should keep this going at home too. I am ignoring Joe.)
Watch the entrance. Ten minutes of just sitting and watching the front of the hive tells you basically everything about how they’re doing. Are they coming in heavy with pollen? Are they fighting? Is there a weird smell? You can learn a shocking amount without ever opening the box.
Plant for them. We let large patches of the lower field go wild this spring instead of mowing. Clover, dandelions, all the things our suburban lives told us were “bad lawn.” The bees seem thrilled. The goats also seem thrilled, which is a different problem.
The honey question.
People keep asking us if we’re going to sell the honey. Eventually, maybe. This year we’re not taking any. The hive is still figuring out who we are. We’re still figuring out who we are. Everyone needs a soft launch.
✎ — Kappie, slowly and boringly, from the lilacs