Yesterday
high as a kite
happy as a clam
trowel in gloved hand,
sunhat shading crow’s feet,
Virgin Airlines black pajamas
my horticulture clothes,
congratulating myself
on the natural aliveness
of the garden:
the hum of bees
the smell of honey come midday heat,
the blooming flowers,
the frantic hummingbirds dive-bombing for food,
the tiny finches’ afternoon visit to the fountain,
the screeching blue jays raiding the feeders,
the baskets of fruit and veggies
resting
in the shade
under the camellia tree.
Today’s inspection
of the hive
revealed the facade;
a trifecta
of pests
invaded the bee box
and my brood
may not survive
the winter.
Small Hive Beetles
tiny helmeted monsters
and
wax moth
dragging a web of pestilence to the comb
and finally
the dreaded Varroa mite
parasitizing the new winter bees
before they even hatch.
What to do?
Not even an aspirin
do I take.
Are the bees treated
once
with an organic insecticide?
Is the queen
replaced
to create a stronger colony?
Or is nature
allowed
to take its course?
Environmental factors
are relegating
today’s
beekeepers
to
pest managers.
Divorcing myself
from the emotional aspects
of animal husbandry
means understanding
chemical manipulations
only lend the illusion
of control and well being
and instead
affect
every
other
thing.
-
#bee #beekeeping #garden #everythingisconnected (at At Home in Napa)