The Humming Of Bees

(Please click on the title for a reading aloud by the author.)

There are a number of Russian Sage plants around the house, and with all the rain we’ve had each is in full flower. The crowns are thick with small lavender blossoms. And especially as the sun comes around they are full of honeybees.

All the windows are wide open and out here it can be quiet. There are sounds; coyotes sing in the night, wind hisses through the screens, many cars and trucks make their dry howl in the morning. During the day when it is calm (and otherwise quiet) the house is permeated with the humming of bees. Hundreds if not thousands of wings beat the air. If it were one bee the sound would not make it, but somehow the gathering together of these ethereal little vibrations gives them strength.

Long time friend TJ has been keeping honeybees for years. A brief conversation with him this morning had my head swimming in information. Bees have been evolving for twelve million years. Watching them come and go I wonder how far they travel in a day. This would be about fifteen miles. Scaling the length of a bee’s body to the length of my own, the equivalent for me would be almost 1,400 miles. Perhaps with wings of my own I would consider it, but otherwise it’s unfathomable. For this biped, covering this kind of distance in a day in a jet is about all I can handle. It’s also worthy of note a honeybee can carry a load of nectar back to the hive weighing about 80% of it’s bodyweight. So for half of those miles, I’d be lugging over 100 pounds.

Bees rely on their sense of smell to find flowers. Some sixty thousand times more sensitive than that of humans a honeybee can smell a single blossom up to ¼ mile away. A keen sense of direction gets them back to the hive and by smelling their queen they can distinguish which one to go to. Guard bees then determine by smell those foragers which belong to the hive and allow only those which do to enter.

Worker bees live for about six weeks. The first three are spent doing chores around the hive, the last three are spent foraging for nectar and pollen. Worker bees die from wearing themselves out. All of this effort and I listen to the humming. I will taste the flowers in the honey on my toast.

Gordon Bunker