Bees and Beehives

When I was a boy

our family usually had a beehive

or two, sometimes more, somewhere on the property

providing honey for us all.

This was rural New Zealand.

Takanini and Taheke for example.

Ohaeawai too.

If, usually on a hot summer's day,

a Queen left the hive and a swarm followed her

we were there in the family Vauxhall on the gravel roads,

in dusty pursuit.

There would be a box and a handsaw in the boot,

there to collect the swarm when they landed

usually on a branch surrounding their Queen.

Once safely in the box we would bring them home

and give them a new residence alongside the

previous tenants.

I always kept my distance, but for some reason

my father had no fear of being stung at all.

He handled the bees as if they were old friends.