It took three frames before I found the one I wanted, and I removed it fully from the hive. Like the others, it was swarmed with bees, and I held it in front of her. “Do you remember when I told you that big producers use chemicals to clear the hives? So they can harvest the honey?”
“I remember.”
“This is why you don’t need chemicals.” I took a small step back and with a quick motion, jerked the frame up and down. Nearly all the bees flew away and I held up the virtually empty frame in front of her. “That’s all you have to do to clear the bees from the frame so you can get to the honey,” I said. “Just a single, quick shake.”
“Then why do the big producers use chemicals?”
“I have no idea,” I said. “I haven’t been able to figure that out yet.”
Angling the frame for a better view, I pointed to various cells as I spoke. “These cells up here in the corner, covered in the beeswax, are filled with honey. These lighter ones down here contain larvae and eggs. And the empty ones will all be filled with honey by the end of the summer.”
More comfortable with the hive now, Natalie moved even closer. There were still a few bees on the frame, and she slowly reached a finger of her gloved hand toward one of them, marveling as it ignored her completely. Another slowly crawled over her gloved finger then onto the frame again. “They’re not mad that you shook off all their friends?”
“Not at all.”
“What about killer bees?”
“They’re different,” I said. “As a colony, they’re a lot more aggressive in protecting the hive. These bees might send out ten or fifteen guard bees when they feel the hive is threatened, but killer bees will send out hundreds of guard bees. There are some historical and evolutionary theories as to the reason why, but unless you’re really interested, we can save that for another time. Do you want to taste some of the honey?”
“Now?”
“Why not? We’re here.”
“Is it…ready?”
“It’s perfect,” I assured her. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out the spoons and unwrapped them. I held one out to her. “Would you mind holding this for a second?”
She took the spoon while I used the other to crush my way through some of the beeswax-coated cells. Raw, pure honey spilled onto the spoon. “Trade you,” I said.
Natalie took the spoon with honey, while I did the same to mine. “Hold this one for a second, too, okay?”
She nodded. Her eyes flickered from me to the honey, golden in the sunlight. I reassembled the hive, picked up the smoker and uncapping knife, then took one of the spoons from her. We walked away from the hives, in the direction of the shed. When we were a safe distance away, I motioned to her that it was fine to take off her hood and gloves.
When I could see her face without the mesh, it was glowing with excitement and interest, her skin dewy with a light sheen of perspiration. I held up the spoon, as though making a toast. “Ready?”
I tapped my spoon against hers, then ate the honey, finding it was sweet enough to make my teeth hurt. After she tasted hers, she closed her eyes and took a long breath. “It tastes…”
“Flowery?”
“And delicious. But yes, there’s a very strong floral flavor.”
“Honey will taste different depending on where the hive is located, because the nectar the bees collect will be different. That’s why some honey is sweeter than others, some have a slightly fruitier flavor, others more flowery. It’s kind of like wine.”
“I’m not sure I’ve noticed a big difference in flavors until now.”
“Most commercial honey is clover honey. Bees love clover, which is why there’s a clover patch on the property, too. But honey is also one of the most manipulated and lied-about foods on the planet. A lot of commercial honey is actually honey mixed with flavored corn syrup. You have to be careful where you buy.”
She nodded, but there was something trancelike about her demeanor, as if the combination of the sun, the soothing droning of the bees, and the elixir of honey had relaxed the defenses she usually erected around herself. Her lips were parted and moist, her aquamarine eyes drowsy and translucent. When her gaze drifted from the hive to meet mine, I felt an almost hypnotic pull.
I took a step toward her, the sound of my own breath loud in my ears. She seemed to know how I was feeling and was flattered by it. But just as quickly, she caught herself and picked up the hood and gloves, severing the thread of the moment.