I had a full weekend of visitors of the two-legged variety. There were long dips into friendships I treasure and miss, freshening them up and making plans. There's a certain kind of laughing old friends do. You've got your stories to haul out and kid each other about, and you wait for it to spring out, and it always does. You start with the warmth of a hug and end that way, too, and in-between you dream of trips to the lake, to the mountains, to the sea ... because they're fun to think about, anyway. The Heirlooms aren't happy, but the new little hybrids already have a few tomatoes. They may save the day. The bells and zukes are doing the opposite, and we're glad for that.
The dogs and I walk the fields, watching the sunflower buds struggle to unlayer themselves. They look like artichokes with little edges that look sharp but are soft and pliable. I spied one open flower in a field of 20 acres of green. Soon they will be all smiles.
I look for the bee boxes, rooting for them to help the sunflowers (and the garden). If the flowers open without boxes we're probably neighbors with the non pollenated varieties of sunflowers, the enemy to the honeybee. Having nothing to nourish the bee in field after field of flowers would exhaust them. They would literally die trying. Rent-A-Hives are everywhere in the early spring. I sometimes pull over with the windows rolled up and watch the hive at work. They are busy and productive and seem happy. Everyone has a job. After a few weeks of pollinating, the hives are carted away to recover and rest. More than a few people have suggested I consider become a beekeeper and it made me wonder why there aren't any beekeepers in our community.
I listen to the answer in the evenings with the sound of the Mosquito Vector helicopter covering the area in sticky spray to keep down West Nile and Zika and whatever else mosquitos carry, and in the rumble of ATVs with chemicals being sprayed on the silage corn and alfalfa and tomatoes. There is so much to farming that is not good to know. I think the only hope for the beautiful, delicate and vital honey bees might be to get them on the endangered species list and protected from harm. Legislation should be passed, chemicals should be curtailed and the bees should be able to concentrate on being bees. I don't want to have to try to explain to my great grandchildren how the honeybees became extinct on my watch.
