I seem to be flitting about lately, like this ravenous swallowtail.
The days are shortening, faster than I would like. At the same time, I find I am looking forward to Autumn. We’ve had a delightful spell of cooler temperatures, but, the heat and humidity are back. It won’t be long, though, before the rakes are employed in the gathering of leaves and someone will mutter about frost on the pumpkins.
A walk on Sunday in The Little Red Schoolhouse Woods seemed like just the thing to do. It had been quite a while since we strolled the White Oak Trail. It felt as if we were the only ones there. We weren’t, of course. Most of the woodland wanderers were off in the new nature center or on the bigger paths that surround the slough.
In a few weeks, the White Oak Trail will be covered in leaves. On this day, the trail had but a few signs of the fall weather ahead. It was quiet and green with a few red berries peaking through and felt as if this mile of forest was just sitting and waiting for the colorful gala ahead.
On the other trails, which we later wandered, were masses of children filled with all of the wonder of youth, looking for fish and turtles and frogs swimming about among the lily pads. Can you see the frog sunning here? This pond is on one side of the trail and an apiary on the other.
We’ve watched the apiary for a few years now. The pear trees are finally bearing fruit and the bee hives fascinate me. As we read about beekeeping and how bees sometimes form their own hives in trees when the apiary boxes become full, what looked like a bunch of dried leaves slowly came alive. I wish that my camera could have gotten a closer look for me. I hope you can see on the tree what looks like a pile of leaves or a log. It is really a massive beehive, swarming with busy workers.
Here on the Cutoff, we reside in a carved out delta of trees and wildlife that we were fortunate enough to find. A very urban area is just down the road a ways, around the bend, with a magnificent glimpse of the far off Chicago skyline. The forests to be found are just a few turns the other way. Both seem like gifts to me.
The active hives of the apiary mean more to me than the honey they produce. They are a symbol of sorts of the lofty idea that such opposing ways of life can coexist. These sloughs and forests, carved out in a long-ago time by ice, remain places of refuge for migratory birds and butterflies in their seasonal journeys. They rest and get nourishment just moments away from highways and byways and one of my country’s largest cities, while minutes away I reside, a simple woman who sits and taps away on keys in a dot on the speck of a spot on our earth while you sit at your computer, in an office, or library, or from a laptop in a coffeehouse, a few miles away or in another hemisphere, and we somehow connect, forming our own blogospheric apiary.
We all make pretty sweet honey, don’t you agree?
Blogospheric aparies …I like that 🙂 Lovely post Penny; and you live in a lovely area.
I haven’t seen a swarm of bees for years – not since my daughter Clare’s bees swarmed because she was too busy socialising to tend to her hive properly and feed them at the end of winter when they were most hungry. I don’t blame Clare though as she had completed a year of cancer treatment which included (as well as many months of extremely harsh chemo) having her leg amputated above knee. During all this shocking treatment and for the next year or so, which was a very hard time, her hive kept her going – taking care of ‘her bees’ on her few days leave from hospital, and when she was regaining her strength later – but there came a time when she gained her drivers license and was mobile once again.
Not long after her bees swarmed and needed to be recovered she sold her hive to one of her secondary school teachers so they went to a good home.
I like this memory as it speaks of a happy time, when Clare was picking up her life again and became a ‘normal’ teenager. Thanks for your story about bees Penny.
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Oh, Marilyn, what a poignant remembrance. It sounds as if Clare kept the bees and the bees kept her during her time of cancer treatment and recovery. They swarmed just as she did when her strength returned. You are so welcome, Marilyn. You touched my heart with you story here and reminded me of all those ways that nature has of shepherding us through difficult times when we least realize it is happening. I’ll think of your Clare and her strength whenever I see these hives.
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I must add Penny that Clare never lost her love of bees, in fact all of us as a family love them. Jeff and i would would like a hive if we were living where that was possible and I know that both Clare and Nathan intend to keep bees in the future; not so much for the honey but because they are so beautiful to have and watch. Clare selling her hive when she did was the right thing for her just then, and yes, her bees did keep her going, and all of us really. Such wonderful creatures of nature. I think of bees and of them swarming and smile, that’s why i loved your post.
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What a thoughtful post in celebration of the bees. Yes, they model for us what a co-operative approach looks like. In my last book, ‘Dancing with the Seasons’, I quoted a lot from one of my favourite books about bees, by a 19th century philosopher and beekeeper called Maurice Maeterlinck: ‘The Life of the Bee’. He writes so poetically about them – as you do too, with your delightful idea of the blogospheric apiary. Yes, through our blogs we do buzz and hum and make fine honey indeed! Thank you for another delightful post Penny.
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Thank you, Juliet, for your kind words. One of these days I will read your books and now you give me another to look forward to in Maeterlinck’s work on bees. First off, I need to go back into this post and correct at least one “aviary” to “apiary”. Sometimes my fingers work too fast for my brain. I thought I proofed it and see that I missed.
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Isn’t that amazing ! Another whole world existing in that tree — and to think it is within sight of The City! It really is a wonderful world!
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I think so, too, Sallie. So much goes on right before our very eyes.
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What a beautiful post, Penny. Marilyn’s comment brought tears to my eyes. How wonderful that she can remember something positive in all that they were going through.
In Prince Edward Island, I saw a large field of Queen Anne’s Lace and I wondered about why there would be such a solid field of it. Then, I saw way back some bee hives. I wonder if they make a special honey from it. What do you think?
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Thank you, Janet. It is such a positive reply, isn’t it? I was touched by her words.
That’s interesting about the Queen Anne’s Lace? I’ve not heard of honey from the plant, but, that doesn’t mean it isn’t so. They could be clover mixed in underneath. Hmmm. Some investigative research is needed . . .
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Hi Penny! I found you only just now while researching the Scottish shrub rose, Harrison’s Yellow (didn’t realise it was that famous Yellow Rose from Texas!) And now, after reading a couple more of your postings, here you are talking about some of my favourite things: bees (that’s a beautiful swarm, btw – good timing on your part, as they probably didn’t stay long before moving on to their new digs), and most importantly how we are all happiest when we work together for the good of all. I love how the Internet allows people from around the world to talk to each other.
In these days of strife and woe, thoughts like yours here help us all bee as one… my idea of Utopia. Thank you, D.
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I’m so glad you found me, Deb, and took the time to comment. One of these days I want to plant a Harrison’s Yellow. The one in the picture is spectacular. I’m glad you mention that the swarm may not last long where they are. We’ll have to take a walk there and check them out again soon. Bees fascinate me. It was quite a sight to see. You are so very right about us all working together – and the wonderful benefits of the internet.
You are quite welcome. Please come back to visit here. Penny
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I’m very late! But beekeeping brings back so many memories from Cornwall, where we had a keeper next door. We rented our piggery out to him and he paid us in honey!!
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What a wonderful way to barter, Kate! There is nothing like honey from nearby hives, is there? You have so many interesting tidbits from your days in Cornwall.
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[…] paths were muddy through the White Oak Trail, but the Trillium, Jack-in-the-Pulpit, and May apple were abundant on the forest floor and worth […]
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