Brood

As my eyes curiously wandered over rows of brood, I saw it. One cell crumbled at its center.

I have only performed a handful of hive inspections. But each time I open a hive box, I am excited to see the wriggling beauty, feel the vibration of a thousand bees, and smell the perfume of thickening beeswax. I even like the pungent smell of the smoke I use to make them sluggish and docile.

I wonder at the uniqueness of each hive. I have only two, and each has its temperament and rhythm. The queen sets the pace of multiplication in each. One is average, I think, producing brood and honey but not doing more than I expected. The other has an energetic queen, laying eggs faster—the workers keeping up only with a concerted effort.

The time I spend in the hive, though the bees do not like it, is a biology lesson. Spotting the queen, drones, and workers was my first goal. I am better at finding the three, but it has taken focus and effort. Each hive inspection forces me to become a voyeur in a different world.

I stood still. It seemed sacred. I was seeing what only God saw.

In the late spring, when the air began to turn wavy from the heat, I opened the two hive boxes. Inspections are a way to gawk at wonders. I am fascinated by the meticulous geometry of the brood cells.

As my eyes curiously wandered over rows of brood, I saw it. One cell crumbled at its center. Antenna and eyes poked out. I held the frame near my face to see more clearly. My arms locked, my heart rate stilled, and I waited. The bee continued to struggle its way out of the cell. Eyes, antenna, then a leg would come out. It would retreat, readying itself for another push, then reappear. I stood still. It seemed sacred. I was seeing what only God saw.

With its two front legs out and digging for leverage, the struggle lessened. Each wiggle revealed more of this young bee. Then, with a final thrust, the bee exited the cell and, with a surprising surety, walked along the bumpy but regular surface of the capped brood. I felt a sudden flash of pride as I, still holding the frame near my face, traced its wavering path toward the cluster of other bees.

Looking for the newly empty cell, I saw other cells breaking open. New bees were forcing their way into the broader spaces of the hive box. I watched the cells, alive with life, move and crumble, revealing more bees eager to escape. A shyness overcame me. I noticed my arms and felt a slight cramp creep between my elbows and wrists. I had marveled at one bee. Watching three was too much. I slowly lowered the frame, placing it gently into the hive box. I quietly finished my inspection and closed the lid.