Letters from the Hive

Chapter One

Chapter 1


The Beginning of an Enduring Passion:
Prehistoric Honey Hunters


O bees, sweet bees! I said: that nearest field
Is shining white with fragrant immortelles.
Fly swiftly there and drain those honey wells.
-Helen Hunt Jackson,
"My Bees"


A few years ago, when I was still keeping honey bees in my Tucson backyard, I always found it particularly exciting to check my hives in late spring, after the blooms had begun and the honey had started to flow. What had my bees been up to? What would the honey crop taste like? If generous winter and early spring rains had tickled the sandy desert soils and brought them to life, there could have been an explosion of wildflowers. Even with normal precipitation, the old desert standbys-velvet mesquite, foothill, and littleleaf paloverde trees-would break out in riotous bloom, attracting hungry bees from far and wide. Tens of thousands of them would plunder the flowers and carry home the precious nectar, transforming it into golden honey-a sweet, fragrant crop that I was always eager to sample.

Whenever I cracked the lid of one of my hives, th ... read full excerpt from: Letters from the Hive ebook