I Think It’s Safe To Call Them Pets

When the first thing you do upon entering the house at 1am, after five days’ absence, is to drop your bags and go check on them, I suppose the term pets serves just as well as anything. I mean, I’m a cat person already, it’s not like I need the animals I keep company with to express their need to have me around or, indeed, acknowledge my presence.

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Early Morning Rituals

I’m leaving town this afternoon, and though I’ve arranged to have my roommate refill the feeders as needed I still went out to check on the bees before leaving. They seem to be working through the feed a bit slower than the first batch, which is just fine– all the pollen sacs I saw marching around the comb yesterday let me know the foragers are out doing their jobs, and the sugar-water’s moving to a supplementary role.

I absolutely treasure the fact that I’m keeping them in my backyard. I love being able to wander out around the beeyard at all hours, just to look. I don’t bother with the bee-suit when I go for these little checks, I just wander right up to and around the gate and they pay me no mind. The other night, during the first storm since getting them here, I went out well after dark to see how the rain sounded on the roofs of the hives. I thought that there might be a discernible patter, given the metal sheeting of the telescoping covers, but there wasn’t. It didn’t disappoint me, though– it is always nice to be out there, even for a few minutes.

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