The wheel turns, the seasons pass, and the bees buzz

Last week was a sad one for this beekeeper, as I set out to a task that I have been avoiding for at least a week now. You see every year in the spring beekeepers all around the world hold their breath and crack open the lids of their hives for the first inspection and to offer the bees a pollen patty or honey to see them through the rest of the winter and cold spring.

This year I knew that one of my hives was not doing well, when I went int during a sunny day in early winter I noticed some mold growing, which usually means that the bees are weak and not cleaning their house, which all bees do, for bees keep immaculate homes going outside to pee and poo as well.

Then about 10 days ago on another sunny day I went in to feed the bees and noticed only a handful alive and a ton of mold growing everywhere in one of the hives, I was so sad that I could not even think straight, so I sat and meditated for awhile, sent them loving healing thoughts and did what every beekeeper has to do, I left them alone.

Then finally the sun was shining and I knew that I needed to do another check, and well, sure enough as I held my breath, and looked in on the bees they were all gone, not one single bee was alive and the box smelled like fermenting honey.

Tears stung my eyes, my chest heaved up and down and spoke to them as I had when they were alive, “well girls I guess this is goodbye–thank you for being with me on this journey.”

I then set about my sad task, determined that it would be a positive one by the time I was done.

With hives where the bees have been sick, there is no saving the frames or the honey it all has to be thrown out. Now if I lived on a big acreage I would burn them, but since I live in the city my options are pretty small and I was left having to throw the frames out, as you can see the comb and honey was full of mold and clearly not healthy looking.

Once that was done I gently dug a small hole in the back garden and shook the bees out into it, along with some offerings from the altar and quietly gave them a proper burial, which is a sad thing indeed, for there were at least 40.000 bees at the bottom of the box.

After I finished my task I  placed a rose quartz stone on top of the burial mound and left it with loving thoughts, and as I looked back into the garden and saw the empty space where the hive had been it very nearly made me sob out loud.

But there is hope in this story, so stay with me, yes it was a sad day indeed, but the circle of life turns and I knew that I must go on, and so I headed inside to paint one of my other bees boxes in anticipation of the spring when I can divide the healthy hive that is left, and have a second colony back!

This is the best part of beekeeping,  for the strong colony has a healthy living queen who is already {as I write this post} laying her spring round of eggs that will be hatching soon, soon, soon and then when I divide the colony into 2!. This means that I will not only have my second colony back, but it will be stronger, because as I now know this colony is a strong breed, and the most holistic way to keep strains of healthy bees going is to divide them and make 2.

Here is a photo of my newly painted hive I painted using some of the natural pigment I bought in England last year for this very purpose in Red, yes Red! I have been wanting to paint my hives Red ever since discovering just how red the propolis the bees coat the inside of their hives with, and well with Red being such a sacred color to me I have been feeling pretty excited about the whole thing, then I discovered the inspiring work of The Red Bee folks just outside of New York, and I just simply could not resist!

So there it is, there are no bees actually living inside of this hive, but with a few more coats of paint and some warmer weather as the wheel turns, I will be set to fill it once more with the sweet sound of buzzing bees~

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sweet smell of earth

The weather has been warmer and I have been out to check on the bees, noticing that the garden has started to come alive with bulbs and shoots, and there is that familiar smell in the air…

The musty smell of dirt mixed and teaming with the smells of new green life.

I paid a visit to the outdoor shrine today, cleaning it off and making my usual offerings, there is a new addition of a small spirit house that came at christmas that I am pleased with,and that I have a feeling the spirits are pleased with too~

There is much news on the bee front to report, but I shall have to save that for another blog post, for as usual the bees had many lessons waiting for me this spring…

In the meantime I take up my new post as an initiate in service to the earth with a stone that now sits in a special place in the garden, the stone is a symbol of my commitment to tend and respect the earth as best as I can. This means a fresh start with composting, which has been neglected this past while,  as well as to my garden which has been neglected since our summer trip to Europe where it was pretty much left to it’s own devices and as a result is a wild thing that does not look as pretty as one might expect!

Yes the smells of earth have drawn me outside, and refreshed my inspiration and commitment to the little garden plot of earth over which I have guardianship, for now at least…

The stone sits covered with rain and morning dew, with frost and whatever elements the earth brings that day. When I visit I bring offerings of  small pebbles and rain water and sit for a moment remembering my commitment.

If you should ever fancy to pop by my garden, there is a small gate that will lead you behind the house and into it, where you will see the apple tree that loves to have ribbons tied into her branches, the altar shrine that has an ever moving amount of offerings on her, the medicine wheel garden that always needs tending, and of course the bees, ever humming and dancing about the gardens flowers, and now this beautiful stone which loves to be covered with water….. no offering is ever too small, and…

All are welcome in the garden…

 

 

Huicholes

Today as I sit watching another round of rain soak the earth outside I fondly recall  the warmth of  being in Mexico a full year ago now! Each year when money allows, we try to get to Mexico to stay with my husbands parents who live there for half of the year, this is such a gift to our family as the sun always seems to fix us right up for another year of living in a rainforest, and for this I am eternally grateful!

We have been going there for just over 10 years now, but it was only last year that I decided to have an adventure of my own that did not include the kids or my husband.

My mother in law Azra and I had always wanted to visit one of the Huichol{Pronounced Witch-hol} villages that lies deep up the Sierra Madre mountain range, which is 3,000 feet above sea level, in Nayarit.

For me, this trip felt important because as I have deepened into my shamanic training I have come to appreciate all of the shamanic cultures from around the world, but the Huichol Indians from Mexico captured my attention years ago because of their stunning art and presence in Jalisco. Over the years I have brought back a few special pieces that have captured some of the spirit animals that I too work with, for there seems to be a universal connection to certain animals, regardless of the tradition you come from.

Joined by another friend of Azra’s it was decidedly an all woman day, and we set out at the break of dawn with no expectations, just an open mind and a great sense of adventure. We knew that the trip would take us  about 12 hours and so we packed our backpacks with water, sun lotion and snacks and pesos.

Now don’t get me wrong, I realize that I am making it sound as if we were heading out on our own, and this was not the case, we were going up to a village that had given permission to our guide Don Miguel, a man raised from the time we was a small boy and adopted by the elder chief of the village. There were only a small handful of us, as I guess an 11 hour tour along dusty roads is not the usual things folks want to see and do when they go to Mexico, and this suited us perfectly.

What I appreciated most form this trip was the amount of time Don Miguel spent teaching us the history of the Huichol people, their culture and how to be respectful.

Don Miguel explained that the Huichol people are actually  descendents of the Aztecs, as they migrated from as far away as Alaska and came to settle where they are now. The Huichol people still practice a pre-Columbian shamanic tradition that primarily uses peyote to receive visions forms a big part of their culture and who they are as a people. It has not been easy though because even though they withstood the Spanish Invasion, they are still striving to keep their culture alive.

He told us his personal story about how he came to receive permission to take us to the village and made no bones about the fact that we were only allowed in because of his connection to them, and that how we behaved was a direct reflection on him, so we needed to be very respectful.

The drive took us five hours up dusty roads, and through ancient villages and into the jungle. I am not sure how he did I as I owuld have been motion sick, but Don Miguel stood up with his back facing the window and  and gave us extensive history lessons on the Aztecs  and Huicholes  and generally preparing us on how to be respectful and on the protocol for entering their village.

As we came into the base of the dusty village I was struck by the red earth and the bricks that the Huichol people had made with it, as it tends to be very dusty, but makes the landscape very beautiful as well.

Slowly we climbed up the foot worn path, and made our way intot he opening of the village. Here we stopped and bought some grain and sweets from a small building/canteen to bring to the oldest elder women in the village, for it would only be with her permission that would be allowed to come in.

Don Miguel explained this village and it’s people are not poor, it is only our perception of how we think things should be that makes us see them as poor

This is something I have spent a long time thinking about, and it was a revelation to realize that my only frame of reference for what I was seeing was media!

You see this is what media tells us,when they show images of people who live with no running water,or electricity, but often  most of what we see is actually only half the story!

Once we were given permission, we were taken to the very center of the village, where their sat a small altar and the village shaman came to cleanse us before being allowed to walk freely around the village.

Again this made a lot of sense to me, for who wants to invite strangers into your village if they are carrying unwanted energies in with them! Once we were cleansed and smudged we were welcomed into to their temple for a blessing{ no photos allowed!} and then into the village square to look and purchase their art.

Huichol art is truly something to behold as the larger framed pieces are made using beeswax and string and the sculptures and jewelry are done using beeswax and small seed beads. This makes bees very sacred to them, which I loved!

In the collage below are some special pieces I brought back with me. The string art  has two shamans one male and one female. In the top left there is a honey bee, which looks a bit like a moth. The female shaman is making candle offerings and the male is using a stick with feathers attached to it, which is used to smudge/ cleanse.

The piece on my altar is a beaded peyote pot.

The trip was long and we were exhausted when we finally got back home, but I would say very worth it.

I felt that Don Miguel had done a very good job explaining and teaching us about the life and culture of the Huichol, and in a very respectful manner as well, but to be honest I will probably never do a tour like this again, unless I am personally invited.

It is an interesting experience to be in another culture, to want to be respectful and yet because of the severe damage done to most of our indigenous cultures to know that this is just simply not possible.

I was aware that we were welcome into the village because they were doing business, and that most of what was truly dear to them was hidden and kept secret, as it should be. But I am also aware that there were folks on the trip who felt disappointed by the day, those who wanted to see more of the people, who promptly went into their homes when we arrived, ruining their photo opp’s.

This seems to be the nature of visiting as a tourist, but to be honest my feeling is that to be the most respectful person I can be when traveling, is to come and enjoy the landscape of wherever I am, spend my money on the local economy, hang with the locals and try their food, keep an open mind, and then to go quietly home.