Honey Bees, Sun Spots, and Basswood Blossoms: Secrets of the Universe Revealed

I spent several summers working for a commercial beekeepiing operation in upstate New York. For the novice, it can be pretty rough. This is not puttering around for fun with a few colonies as a hobby. In fact spring began by unloading 400 colonies (90 lb. hive boxes) trucked up from Florida, to take full advantage of the pollination needs of fruit farms along Lake Ontario. Although the hives were unloaded at night when bees don't swarm or fly because of bad night vision, they do crawl. In fact the hives were piled with bees all over the outsides. And they did occasionally sting.

Such an experience was not for the faint of heart or week of limb. But I often looked back on it as the dark journey that leads to the light. A sunny spring afternoon with trees in full bloom and bees merrily buzzing by the tens of thousands is a near transcendental experience. And the pollen and nectar from this bounty brought the travel weary colonies of bees to life. The hives were soon 'boiling over' with busy bees and the nursery of capped brood also exploded. Though the orchirds produced virtually no honey, the colony populations were strengthened for the coming summer clover honey flow. And the pollination fees pay the transport costs plus a profit.

But a special incident that summer has been indelibly imprinted on my mind. And in fact changed not just my veiw of nature, but my very ability to penetrate the miracles of the natural universe. It began one afternoon in a bee yard in a rugged abandoned pasture area. I was left to inspect the 25 colonies there and ad super boxes if they were needed. In this overgrown lot of a few acres, several large basswood trees caught my eye. Their giant yellow buttercup like blossoms make a stunning sight.

Basswood trees are peculiar in that they only fully bloom once in every 4 to 7 years. From my reading, and from talking to beekeepers in the area, I had come to know that pure basswood honey was rare and considered a world class premium honey. As I gazed into the trees, I noticed that something unique was happening. The big yellow basswood blossoms were plastered with bees. I'd never seen such a frenzy of nector gathering in a tree before.

Another notion crept into my mind from advice given to me by my mentor and employer, Art Brew. This was the phenomina of sun spots on nector flows, and thereby honey production. High sun spot activity increased ultra violet radiation, which increased photosynthesis activity, and nector production. In fact he explained to that he was particularly agressive in maximising his colony count during these high sunspot cycles, and reaped bumper crops as a result. We were in such a cycle then.

But back to the bee yard. When I cracked open the first hive, I was nearly overwhelmed. It was packed solid with honey. And the honey had a special fragrance like juicyfruit gum. It was pure basswood honey! Clear and light with its distinctive and pleasant flavor. And a quick estimate of 25 colonies, with at least 75 lbs. of honey each, I was standing in the presence nearly a ton of the stuff with more to come.

I worked the yard briskly and happily. Inspecting the health of each colony and adding a fresh empty super box to each. And when finished, I was feeling exhausted and along with it that good feeling of being exhausted at doing something you love to do brings. And I also reflected.

The sun spot cycle occurs 93,000,000 miles away. Basswood trees are mysterious in their blooming cycles. The small honey bees beneath my nose for most of the day were in a fever pitch of activity. And I was priveledged to spend one glorious afternoon in the midst of it all. The sensation of connection changed not just how I understood the natural world, but how I would forever feel about it.

Einstien once pondered if the universe was friendly. I have no such concerns. I know. If you consciously live in it, it's miraculously friendly.