On bees and beekeepers

When I first moved here, I bought supplies at a small food coop located next to the post office, including, on my first visit, local honey. I remember thinking as I held the hefty jar of amber liquid that it would be a dream to meet the beekeeper, whose name was on the label. I also thought it would be a long and complicated passage to make contact, much less befriend, him. Beekeepers were mythic to me—people with extraordinary powers to wrangle colonies of pollen-gatherers in exchange for their golden currency. I couldn't imagine that it would be easy to track down this special person, or others like him, and learn the ways of raising bees and harvesting honey.

As it turns out, I met Andrew soon that first year, along with his wife, Carolina, and their two teenaged kids. They, like so many here, welcomed us, introduced us to other residents, and invited us often. I told Andrew my story about the honey, and about hoping to meet someday, which he found amusing. After that, he often gifted me some of his bees' bounty.

Now that their kids have grown up, Andrew and Carolina have moved back to Chile, where Carolina was raised. Their small farm here is rented, but they still visit. It's a thrill to see them and remember how it felt to be new to town, and how much fun we had together.

Beekeepers are still extraordinary people in my view. I've met a few others here. I've sampled as many kinds of local honey as I can find and read some books in anticipation of raising bees of my own.

This year, I'll be moving my first hive to the land! It was a gift from a neighbor and friend, Victor, whose honey features prominently in our household. He kept my bees with his last season, and encouraged me to check and tend them with him. I wasn't the most attentive of students, but Victor coached me through it!

If only it would stop snowing and the bees could get on with it.