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“They haven’t started filling this one yet.” He pulls out the other frames one by one until he finds one that’s half covered in little sealed cells. “See, they’ve just begun on this one.”
“What are you checking for?”
“To see if the frames are full enough to need to be replaced. This top box is called the honey super. It’s the excess that I can take from them. First, they fill the brood box below this. They won’t start working on the top one until they have enough to support the colony.”
He replaces all but the last frame, offering it to me. “Do you want to put it back in?”
Of course I do. He takes the smoker while I carefully grasp the edges of the frame. I line it up and slowly slide it down, glancing at Arlow when a bee climbs in between the side of the box and the frame.
“It’s okay. Keep going.”
“I don’t want to hurt them,” I murmur, pressing the frame down the rest of the way. He’s right, gloves do make it hard to be precise.
“I know,” he says, his voice soothing. “It can’t be helped sometimes.” He puts the lid back on, but leaves it propped open on one side. “Okay, let’s get them some water and shade. Are you burning up in that suit yet?”
“Sweating like crazy, but I’m good.”
“This won’t take long.” He leads me back to the trailer where we grab some white cloth cut from bedsheets. “We’re going to drape these over the top to give them some shade and reflect the sunlight. Just be careful not to cover the entrances.”
Once that’s done, we return to the ATV where he pulls out a large plastic jug with a tray attached. “Are you giving them water?” I ask.
“Usually, the creek and another water station that’s in the clover field is enough, but they need a closer source right now.”He holds the jug up. “This is made for chickens, but it’ll work. It’ll go on one side of the hives and that container will go on the other.” He nods toward a wide tray filled with clay marbles.
Unfurling a length of hose with a siphon on the end, he sticks the other end into one of the water tanks and fills the jug, then the tray. “Where do you want it?” I ask, picking up the jug.
“On the ground on the far side of that hive.” As I’m doing that, he fills the tray and places it on the opposite end. We meet back at the ATV, and he circles me, sweeping his eyes over the suit and brushing a couple of bees off me. They head lazily back toward the hive, too hot to bother with us.
“Okay, you can take the suit off.” Without bothering to see if he had any bees on his, he strips it off. His hair is damp at his temples, sticking to his head. “Thanks for the help.”
The relief of the breeze on my skin is immediate. “It was fun.”
We both grab our water bottles and take a long drink. “I need to stop to fill the other water station, but if you’re ready to get out of the heat, I’ll run you home first.”
“I’m fine. I’d like to go.” Arlow returns the smoker and hive tool to the trailer, and we climb back on the ATV.
The watering station is a round container about the size of a kiddie pool. It’s about two feet deep, and one side is filled with rocks. Earth has been piled up against the outside rim to make a ramp on the same side. When I first put the birdbath in, I read about how you’re supposed to add a couple of rocks for the smaller birds to stand on. I assume the clay marbles in the water tray serve the same purpose for the bees. It’s not hard to see he’s arranged this so smaller animals can reach the water without getting stuck inside the pool.
“Tell me you have a camera out here to see which animals visit,” I remark, as he hooks the siphon up to the water tank again.
“That’s a good idea. I’ve never really thought about it. I put it here as another source for the bees and because there are a few wild rabbit dens close by. They love the clover.” He points to the trailer. “Actually, there’s a bag back there filled with vegetables for them. Do you want to spread them out near that rock?”
The bag is stuffed with peppers, lettuce, cabbage, and tiny misshapen carrots. “Did you grow these?” I ask. They’re from someone’s garden judging by the state of them.
“Mm hmm,” he replies absently, pumping water into the pool.
The more I learn about him the funnier it is that I was afraid of him before. A man who tends bees, grows a vegetable garden, and feeds bunnies. “Do you feed any of the other wildlife?” I ask, after laying out the food.
“I have a couple of squirrel feeders behind my barn.”
“So, you aren’t out here at night feeding coyotes or anything, right?” I tease.
He grins at me, turning off the flow of water. “I tried but they won’t come to me.”
“I’m almost convinced you’re joking.” He’s so at home out here, so comfortable. If I stayed, I think I could be too. It’s more than the quiet that makes it peaceful. The more I’m out in nature, the more it feels like I belong here. Pretty funny considering I was what the people here like to callraised on concrete.
Patches of wildflowers grow nearby, as if they’ve trickled away from the lake of them at the far end of the field. A beautiful mix of purples, blues, and yellows. “You can go and pick some,” Arlow offers, noting the direction of my gaze.
“Yeah?”
