My bee story happened a few weeks ago, and actually FEELS like it happened forever ago, since I’ve just arrived back in bustling, metropolitan Austin. But that’s ok, because if it was written too closely to the incident, it might have a frightening undertone. So, here we are, and, alas, it will instead be told in loving retrospect. Because the last thing I want this story to do is make one bitter against bees, and make one dismiss them as nothing more than little stinging monsters. So, ahem, a disclaimer: bees are nature’s friends. They’re crucial open pollinators, and very important for the world of natural agriculture. The world needs bees. Oh, and they’re disappearing. Rapidly, I hear. And if you’re on 50 million “eco” listservs like I am, you’ll know too that it’s a panicked-filled issue.
Besides–and I know, I’ll get on with the story soon, be patient, ok?–it’s not their fault they’ve bred with Africanized bees and now they’re alittle, um, fiestier. They get alittle riled up when you mess with their bee boxes or hives, that’s all. I went to a lecture of Malcolm Beck’s (organic gardening writer and guru), and he talked about how he liked keeping wasps in his garden for all of these pest control reasons, and how he could now pretty much pet and play with the wasps like dogs if he wanted to. ….I don’t know how this conveys my case trying to get you, dear reader, to not hate bees, but my point is….well, just don’t hate bees! Love them, learn to live with them, and if you’re a brave soul, learn to be a beekeeper. I hear it pays well, because most people are scared. I know I am. Long live the beekeeper!
My story goes like this: All of us farm volunteers had a class on beekeeping. The beginning was a lecture, safe and protected in the walls of the strawbale education center. I sat, furiously scribbling notes on the fascinating world of bees. In fact, I couldn’t get enough of their tiny, captivating lives. And when our teacher announced we would all be going out to find the queen bee, well…count me excited!
We marched up the hill to the stack of bee boxes, all of us armored with the black screen hats, except for two who stayed behind to wait their turns due to the shortage. Then, the teacher began; slowly, one by one, unstacking the boxes. First a few bees started buzzing around. Then a few more. Then–a lot more. I’m pretty sure he was talking about finding the queen, how he didn’t usually have this much trouble, but I had stopped listening. I was getting freaked out. And I mean FREAKED OUT. And since we had just learned about bees and their dependence on pheromones, I’m pretty sure my fear was radiating out of my body, and, therefore, utterly detectable.
Then I felt the sting. On the back of my “protected” head. And then another one. Feeling behind in a panic, I realized the screen hat was never really sealed in the back. And then what did I do? I ran! (So stupid, never run! Learn from my mistakes!). I ran and took off the mask screen thing. ALSO stupid. Of course, bees followed me. The other two waiting volunteers saw me and what must have looked like a cartoon swarm of bees around my head, because they looked scared. Real scared. One hit my head in an effort to kill one, but hurriedly said, “Oh, sorry!” Sorry? I thought, Heck, keep hitting me! Infact, don’t STOP hitting me! If you knock me out at this point, that’s ok! I had probably gotton 10 stings or so, and, after a few minutes and a lot of smacking of the head, finally ran down to the intern house, where I immediately took benedryl and applied ice.
Ok, it was pretty terrifying. I tried to tone down the actual horror that was this story, and I think I sort of succeeded, but obviously, this doesn’t make me want to keep bees. I don’t care how fascinating their lives are, I can’t do it. I can’t! But I really admire people who can and will. Albert Einstein once said something about if the world loses bees, we’re all in big trouble. So: for pete’s sake, people, save the bees!
Four years!!! That’s how long the human race can survive without bees, according to Einstein. Don’t know when he said it, but it was a freakin’ long time ago and we are just realizing this potentially ELE (extinction level event) NOW??? We need to figure out how to save the Earth or we’ll never have the chance to be hit by an asteroid or some other more exotic ELE. Let’s at least give ourselves a chance to get wiped out by something we can’t do anything about and/or didn’t make happen by our human stupidity.
Keep the info comin’, Ms. Parker. Loved the bee story–you are funny AND informative.
If I repeat myself, I apologize, but I must say that I just heard that same reference to Albert Einstein and bees. Turns out he predicted the human race can survive for only FOUR YEARS after bees disappear, which they are doing at an alarming rate. Alison just told me the bee disappearance may be connected to genetically modified corn but she isn’t sure. Whatever it is due to, can we please figure it out and DO something? If the human race is going to be wiped out, I’d much rather it be due to a more exotic ELE (extinction level event) like an asteroid than human negligence or–even worse–stupidity.
Think, people. Think and PRAY–not for peace but World Intelligence.
What a sad, horrible experience. I would hink that before a bunch went into a bee area, each person would check over a buddies suit. This is what parachute jumpers do. Before a jump, each jumpers suit attachments and wires are checked by an adjecent jumper. So people in Bee suits shoulc check each other over.
Alison– you are such a good writer. interesting, funny and informative!!!!! keep up the good work–I am enjoying your blog. I meant to write you after your first blog entry– I especially loved your take on PETA- very funny and true, although I do give PETA credit for making sure they get the readers attention with their ads!!! It’s like, you just have to notice!!!
Well, I’ve been considering a midcareer change recently–and let me say that, having read your blog, I’ve now RULED OUT beekeeping!! Thanks for the “heads up”! Long live the bees!!
As a shamanic healer totally inundated with animal totems and animal spirit guardians I had to do a little research–what were the bees trying to convey to you? BEE-cause, everything happens for a reason. And the animals always carry a message.
BEE-low, find Lin Oberlin’s information provided on Bee as a totem spirit–peruse it yourself, see if anything sticks out! (rather than stings in–doh!)
I hope you are healed up and I am sorry you had to go through such scariness my love!
Bee below from http://www.linsdomain.com:
Fertility and the Honey of Life,
Accomplishing the Impossible
Bees are the symbol of fertility and sexuality.
Its honeycomb, a hexagon, is the symbol of the heart and
represents the sweetness of life found within our own heart.
It is also the symbol of the sun and all its energies.
The bee reminds us to extract the honey of life
and to make our lives fertile (productive) while the sun shines.
No matter how great the dream is, there is the promise of fulfillment
if we pursue our dreams.
If a Bee has shown up in your life, examine your own productivity.
Are you doing all you can to make your life more fertile?
Are you busy enough?
Are you making time to savor the honey of life and not becoming a workaholic?
The Bee is the symbol of accomplishing the impossible.
Aerodynamically, its body is too large for its wings and should not be able to fly.
Although now we understand how it does fly (high rate of wing movement),
the Bee remains a symbol of accomplishing anything you put your mind to.
In Hinduism, the Bee relates to Vishnu, Krishna or Kama, the God of Love.
In Egypt, the Bee symbolized royalty.
In Greece, it was the symbol of the Eleusinian Mysteries.
The Celts associated the Bee with hidden wisdom.
Look bee-atch (hahahahaha!),
What are you trying to tell me? That we won’t be keeping bees on our farm? No way. Look, you’re gonna chop the chickens’ heads off and take care of the bees!! That has always been the plan, hasn’t it? Don’t wuss out on me just because of some unfortunate multiple bee sting incident. (By the way… benadryl? You didn’t have access to a soothing lavender/oatmeal/tomato juice/calendula/chamomile/arnica/and whatnot compress? You couldn’t find any poppies growing wild from which to harvest opiates?)
If anything you’ve got to face those bees again, this time with your screen secured! And me at your side! I agree that someone else should have checked to make sure you were safely and securely in your bee gear. In fact, I hope they’ll take it under advisement to take this matter more seriously in the future. I just thank Tori Amos that you didn’t end up like Macauley Culkin’s character in the movie My Girl.
I’m so glad you lived to tell. I’m so glad you’re blogging again! You write so well and you crack me up. I love you!
And seriously, reconsider this swearing off of bees.