At BeeCamp today (8)

On a beautiful autumn day like today, one of the nicest things to do is simply sit at BeeCamp and watch the honeybees for a while.

That’s one of the real joys of being a BeeCamper.

Nice, isn’t it?
Shall we make some coffee?

As we gaze out at the islands scattered across the Seto Inland Sea in the distance, we watch the honeybees coming and going from their hives, nimbly dodging hornets and dragonflies along the way.

Every now and then, a worker bee comes out carrying a little piece of newspaper or a bit of hemp twine that we had used inside the hive.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Our mistake. Please excuse us.”

Sometimes, we even see two bees carrying an intruder out of the hive.
The intruder, of course, is after the honey inside.

Apparently a repeat offender, this one has a shiny black back that almost looks like a tattoo.

The two guards grab him, take off with him, and drop him a few meters away from the hive.

“Don’t ever come back.”

And just like that, another episode of the surprisingly tough everyday life inside a beehive unfolds right in front of us.

Around this time of year, a worker bee’s lifespan is only about a month and a half.
And the queen is laying, on average, around 1,000 eggs a day.
Which means that roughly 1,000 bees are reaching the end of their lives every day.

And yet, it is remarkably rare to see the other bees carrying a dead worker out of the hive.

The latter half of a worker bee’s adult life is spent as a forager.

She gathers nectar, pollen, water, and propolis.
She guards the hive and fights off intruders.

It is a demanding job, and a remarkably risky one.

And somehow, when the end comes, she seems to know.

She may find a quiet patch of grass near the hive and spend her final moments there, still carrying pollen in the little baskets on her hind legs.

Perhaps so she won’t become a burden to the others.

She breathes slowly.
And for a little while longer, she shares the passing of time with us.

“Thank you for all your hard work.”
Maybe that’s what I want to say.

But even saying “thank you” somehow feels a little too presumptuous.