Chances are great that your he-bee was a she-bee. They are mostly she. Which is why I love beekeeping.. It's matriarchal, creative, busy, needs no interference, an age-old homestead/husbandry sort of thing. You fed her. She appraised you. She did, in fact. She came around to look at you. My bees did that. They tap against you as a warning. Then they move in to sting if you are crossing a boundary (taking honey, etc.) I miss my bees. New house in city limits, though it's a small town, means no bees. When I make a friend with property, I'll set up a new hive. I miss my bees. <sigh>
I recognize that as a possibility, but the little bugger felt like a "he" to me so I went with it. Either way it was a wonderful interaction. I hope you can set up a hive soon!
That was a great read, Chris. I gave up fishing because I don't eat them, New Jersey is too polluted, and I don't want them to suffer. I hike, and sometimes I throw scraps in the water to maybe see a fish.
I can relate. A friend of mine who is an avid angler and has even written guide books told me he often enjoys watching trout more than catching them. I certainly do, certain nights at the riverbank when the books are out, watching them rise ... sometimes with some serious athleticism! I can dig that.
Yeah, I’m that crazy lady in the Jeep who stops traffic so that I can safely (for me) carry a dead animal from the middle of the road into the grassy edges, all the while whispering a prayer for a life that passed.
Bless your musing heart, Chris. I am always in agreement with your rants.
Excellent piece, Chris. As you know, I do like to fly fish now and then. I, too, have had the same thoughts as you about the "sport." I agree with everything you say, so why do I still try to tempt the trout with the fly? It is troublesome. I have given up eating meat, however. A few years ago we saw the documentary film, Cow Conspiracy. That was the tipping point.
Thanks, Jim. I thought of you as I was ranting about fishing. We all struggle to varying degrees with what is troublesome. You are a guy I know whose heart is in the right place. I'm just glad you aren't offended.
Honeycomb! This is a lovely way to think about gophers. Like most above-the-ground dwellers I suppose, I tend to forget the complexities of life within the soil.
All these contortions we go through, those of us who give a shit, hoping they will result in a better future, some new level of evolution - not eating meat; refusing to hunt or fish; not letting our cats out; refusing to drive a car, even (although cars are just problematic, period, but anyways) - they are all pointless because they are all missing the point. The point is not what we doing in expressing our basic hardwiring and/or whims, the point is the scale now at which we are doing it. You reach a certain level of bull-in-the-china-shop-itis and just the movement of your chest expanding as you breathe is gonna wreak havoc.
There is no cure for the scale we at today other than not to be at the scale we are at today. This is the narrative we should be engaging in. Not "don't let your cat out." How about "the world does not need another you, for now and quite possibly for the rest of your tenure, at least" or if you look in the mirror and see something so incredible looking back at you that you must absolutely insist that it does, then make sure you stick to spawning but one. A small one at that. Midget preferably.
I have an otherwise intelligent, concerned associate who ten years ago got together with a partner - 1+1=2 that is - and in just ten years it's now 1+1=7. THERE is our issue. This is the most terrifying math i know. If this doesn't terrify a person, their attention is not where it should be.
Chances are great that your he-bee was a she-bee. They are mostly she. Which is why I love beekeeping.. It's matriarchal, creative, busy, needs no interference, an age-old homestead/husbandry sort of thing. You fed her. She appraised you. She did, in fact. She came around to look at you. My bees did that. They tap against you as a warning. Then they move in to sting if you are crossing a boundary (taking honey, etc.) I miss my bees. New house in city limits, though it's a small town, means no bees. When I make a friend with property, I'll set up a new hive. I miss my bees. <sigh>
I recognize that as a possibility, but the little bugger felt like a "he" to me so I went with it. Either way it was a wonderful interaction. I hope you can set up a hive soon!
Another beautiful piece that resonates with my soul. Well done, friend.
Thanks, as always, Angie.
That was a great read, Chris. I gave up fishing because I don't eat them, New Jersey is too polluted, and I don't want them to suffer. I hike, and sometimes I throw scraps in the water to maybe see a fish.
I can relate. A friend of mine who is an avid angler and has even written guide books told me he often enjoys watching trout more than catching them. I certainly do, certain nights at the riverbank when the books are out, watching them rise ... sometimes with some serious athleticism! I can dig that.
Yeah, I’m that crazy lady in the Jeep who stops traffic so that I can safely (for me) carry a dead animal from the middle of the road into the grassy edges, all the while whispering a prayer for a life that passed.
Bless your musing heart, Chris. I am always in agreement with your rants.
I'm not surprised in the least that you are "that crazy lady in the Jeep," Marie. Don't stop being Her!
Excellent piece, Chris. As you know, I do like to fly fish now and then. I, too, have had the same thoughts as you about the "sport." I agree with everything you say, so why do I still try to tempt the trout with the fly? It is troublesome. I have given up eating meat, however. A few years ago we saw the documentary film, Cow Conspiracy. That was the tipping point.
Thanks, Jim. I thought of you as I was ranting about fishing. We all struggle to varying degrees with what is troublesome. You are a guy I know whose heart is in the right place. I'm just glad you aren't offended.
Honeycomb! This is a lovely way to think about gophers. Like most above-the-ground dwellers I suppose, I tend to forget the complexities of life within the soil.
All these contortions we go through, those of us who give a shit, hoping they will result in a better future, some new level of evolution - not eating meat; refusing to hunt or fish; not letting our cats out; refusing to drive a car, even (although cars are just problematic, period, but anyways) - they are all pointless because they are all missing the point. The point is not what we doing in expressing our basic hardwiring and/or whims, the point is the scale now at which we are doing it. You reach a certain level of bull-in-the-china-shop-itis and just the movement of your chest expanding as you breathe is gonna wreak havoc.
There is no cure for the scale we at today other than not to be at the scale we are at today. This is the narrative we should be engaging in. Not "don't let your cat out." How about "the world does not need another you, for now and quite possibly for the rest of your tenure, at least" or if you look in the mirror and see something so incredible looking back at you that you must absolutely insist that it does, then make sure you stick to spawning but one. A small one at that. Midget preferably.
I have an otherwise intelligent, concerned associate who ten years ago got together with a partner - 1+1=2 that is - and in just ten years it's now 1+1=7. THERE is our issue. This is the most terrifying math i know. If this doesn't terrify a person, their attention is not where it should be.