Last week I added a second honey super to my bee hives. The hives now consist of four boxes each. The bottom two boxes contain the brood. They are where the queen is laying eggs and the colony is raising new bees. On top of those two deep boxes is a screen known as a queen excluder. The holes in the wire mesh are large enough for worker bees to go through, but too small for the queen to go through. Above the excluder are boxes that are not quite as deep where the bees are filling cells with honey. It is prime honey season for the bees in our hive. The farm is full of flowering plants and the bees are coming back to the hive with lots of nectar that they turn into honey and store. Some of that honey will be their food source over the winter when many plants are dormant. Most of the honey in the supers will be harvested for us to eat and to share with friends and neighbors.

While I added the supers, I did a full inspection of the hive, pulling out some of the frames to look at the bees, notice the capped cells with larvae, see the honey cells, and make sure that there were no signs of mites or other problems for the colonies. The bees are healthy an active. Still, inspecting the hive riled them up a bit and I was glad I had my bee jacket and hood with so many flying around me. I’m learning the art of paying attention to the bees and moving slowly when I handle them. They are learning to trust me and go on with their business.

Our son and daughter in law have been hosting her father and his wife and her grandmother over the weekend and we had the whole family at our house for dinner last night to celebrate our daughter in law’s birthday. Everyone had seen the beehives and we got to talking about bees. People always have a few questions about the bees and how I work with them. I commented that my experience has made me question the title “beekeeper.” Bees aren’t really kept. I provide the hives - a place for the bees to live. I pay attention to them, make sure they have access to water and a safe place for the queens to lay eggs, but I don’t “keep” the bees. The bees are doing all of the work of gathering pollen and nectar and raising new bees.

That conversation led to talk of the many phrases and turns of speech that refer to bees. The phrase, “none of your beeswax” means “none of your business.” You can see that beeswax and business are similar sounding words and imagine how the slang phrase originated. We tried out our best Brooklyn accents as we talked, but none of us are from that part of the country and I’m pretty sure our accents weren’t close to authentic.

How did “bees knees” come to mean the best or finest? Bees do have knees, or at leas their legs have joints that make them bend like creatures with knees. However, I’m not sure that the knees of bees are somehow superior to those of other insects. Other creatures have slang for excellence that are equally strange. I’ve never seen a cat wearing pajamas, so don’t know what makes “cat’s pajamas” an expression of excellence. According to an online etymology dictionary, the phrase “bees knee” was used as far back as 1797, but in its original use meant “something insignificant.” Our language is full of complex phrases with obscure meanings. I’m pretty sure that such phrases are a bit of a mystery to those who have learned English as a second language.

There are a lot more slang phrases that refer to the tiny honey-producing insects. We say “What’s the buzz?” to inquire about a busy rumor or simply to ask what is happening. When an airplane flies low over the ground, we say that it is “buzzing.” Airplanes flying low and changing the throttle serve as a warning in some circumstances. The German rocket weapon developed during World War II was referred to as a “buzz bomb.”

We use “buzzed” to refer to a state of intoxication.

We refer to bees as signs of productive work. Someone who is in charge is sometimes called a “queen bee.” Those who contribute to getting the work done are called “worker bees.” “Busy like a bee” is a compliment for someone who gets a lot done.

Honeybee is a term of endearment. Lovers refer to their mate as “honey.” Teaching someone about the birds and the bees is a conversation about sexuality.

Emily Dickinson wrote:

His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
O, for a bee’s experience
Of clovers and of noon!

Muhammad Ali advised, “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.”

I guess people have been observing bees, thinking about bees, appreciating bees, and talking about bees for a long time. We know how dependent our food is upon the bees’ work of pollination of important crops. We enjoy the sweetness of honey. We have felt the sting of a bee and aren’t eager to experience that pain again. Our language is filled with phrases that relate love and life to bees.

In my brief tenure as one who keeps and cares for bees, I have found real joy and peace in just looking at the bees. I am pretty sure that my bees recognize me. When I am calm, take my time, and watch closely the bees are not aggressive. I can work among them without fear. Unless I’m moving the boxes or inspecting the hives, I don’t need to wear protective clothing. Even when I am wearing my bee suit, I don’t always have to wear gloves. Being patient and watching the bees is an art that I’m still working to achieve. One of my beekeeping friends calls it the “Zen of bees.” There certainly is a meditative quality to being around the bees.

I’m sure that I will enjoy the honey. That bonus aside, I appreciate the role of the bees in pollinating the fruit trees, flowers, and crops of the farm. I’m grateful for the opportunity to observe and to learn to work with the bees. Doing so is teaching me about patience and developing a calm demeanor.

It is fun. It’s just the bees knees!