Veiled

Lately I've been mulling over the idea of trying my hand at beekeeping. I've spent countless hours researching local courses and the possibility of urban beekeeping. Am I nuts to even think that I could put a hive out on our balcony?

The thing is, bees are more important to us than most people realize. They pollinate almost all of the fruits and vegetables we eat and are vital for a functioning ecosystem. Without bees, the world would lose a third of its food production! Two nights ago, I curled up and watched the German documentary, "More Than Honey." I cried and cried and felt super nauseous throughout the whole thing, until I made it to the end, which featured a super cool beekeeper from Arizona that gave me a shred of hope for this world.

There are great challenges in beekeeping; diseases, the blasted varroa mite, unpreventable chemicals and insecticides in the air and water, cross-breeding of bees and so much more. It's not an easy path and yet, it's not like I'm interested in any profits from this. I'd just love to see a rise in bee population and know that I'm helping the earth recharge its batteries and increase its natural fertility.

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My plans for this weekend were altered because of my tattoo; it should have a been a girls' sauna night and freezing lake dip followed by a day of gardening out on the countryside, but then I remembered that I can't go swimming for another two weeks, nor go in the sauna, nor put too much physical strain on my back. Oh well, I had to cancel and find an alternative way to spend such a sunny and beautiful Saturday.

I slept in until 10:30—something I haven't done in a very long time—woke up with scrambled eggs on the table (I love Johannes' mama), and decided that it would be a great day to go out to Rosenhill and help get the place back in shape before they open their doors to guests in May. I didn't call in advance or plan or ponder too much, but grabbed my essentials and zipped out the door. It's always such a magical feeling when I'm walking back to that farm for the first time in a while. All of the memories of my first visit to Sweden snap back at me like a retracting tape measure: the wise smell of the woods, the clucking of the hens, and the chiming and whizzing of all the random whimsical hanging things that garnish the corners of the farm...

 It seemed pretty deserted but I found Emilia (mama farmer) almost right away and went up to have lunch with the family and assorted helpers, workers and friends that were there today. Rosenhill is and will always be family to me. We ate wonderful food, caught up on old times, and dove into conversations involving pressing topics in health and the environment, as well as more mystical ideas, such as the relationship that women have to the moon, and the idea that just as bees act as one organism rather than individuals, humans too might be part of something greater, but are living in denial and insist on their individuality. Just some food for thought. Of course while we were on the subject of bees, I brought up my interest in them, and asked if the beekeepers who take care of their bees could point me in any direction. I spent a few hours cleaning out the greenhouse, arranging chairs and repainting signs when Lars (papa farmer) approached me and called, "Julia, biodlarna är här! Vill du kom och prata med de?"—"Julia, the beekeepers are here! Do you want to come and speak with them?"

Did I ever!? I went down to the field to meet them and they said they'd consider having me as an apprentice! Ask and you shall receive, the universe is kind when you allow it to point you in the right direction. My no-plans trip to Rosenhill turned into a serendipitous meeting with much potential and I ended up in a beekeeper's veil, helping the two of them inspect the hives for varroa mites and watching them scrape away the dead bees and winter debris from the hive. I even nibbled a bit of fallen bee-pollen from the tray and savored the hard summer's collecting of those magical, glass-winged creatures.