Several months after harvesting, my bees absconded, disappearing without a trace. There were no mites. They had plenty of honey. I had failed, but there were no clues as to why.
This week, I have for you an essay by Laura P. McCarty published in The Rumpus that highlights and connects two problems that have become increasingly relevant and critical in recent years. It’s an interesting parallel, the line between unsuspecting, sudden disasters on scales that are typically unseen or underestimated for whatever reason. There is a sensation of the unknown, or the ominous, a series of patterns that go unnoticed. Sudden empty spaces that go unaccounted for. The interwoven nature of all living things leading to soft spots in the structure, and unknowable kinds of devastation.
Did they decide that once their mates drowned in the sugar feeder that their lives weren’t worth living? Or was it because their survival was dependent on the others?