Winter warmth and timely metaphors

What a couple of gorgeous days we've had up here in soggy 'ol western Washington! The rains let up and we marched ourselves and hundreds of lbs of frame honey out through muddy fields and farm pastures to get our ladies fed!  We hold back tons of honey during extraction to feed back, if needed, to strong springtime clusters.   I'm hesitant to say the word Springtime just yet, as we likely will have a million gallons of steadily-pouring rain yet to deal with, but after the recent cold snaps, I knew whatever bees were still alive would likely need a little treat to boost morale in the hive.  It was also a nice day to cart out any unused equipment that got left behind (I might not be the most organized person who ever lived, but I'll eventually get it all done!) during the course of the day, my trusty white Ford Ranger with 2 wheel drive and 4 completely bald tires, managed to never get stuck! 

It was a pretty sleepy day on the farm, with my only companions in the field being Ginger the wild neighborhood beast  who never, ever stops trying to get me to throw the stick (and surprisingly isn't afraid of my moon-man bee suit) and the always lovely Eden as he prunes the blueberry bushes.   I was happy to know someone else was out there in case my truck got stuck, and it's always calming to do hard work with the companionship of others.  

In my attempt to get the beehives open and closed as fast as possible, I didn't get time to take many bee pics.  I did take a moment to capture something that I saw that couldn't have presented itself at a more perfect moment.  Feeling somewhat broken myself lately, my eye caught the smallest new growth coming out of what looked like a broken blackberry branch.  once again, nature's metaphor put my own life's drama in perspective.  New growth can come from a debilitating break.  And I choose to think about my bees in the same way, with hope and trust that from weakness can come strength and from strength can come prosperity.  

Side note: as I write this, hours later, I can still hear the gentle humming of those sweet new baby bees, sitting on my hat and crawling on my shoulders.  Maybe they think I am queen? No, it's more likely they have never taken an orientation flight and they're a little lost.  Not to worry, I got them all back in the hive but for one that came home with me