My Christmas gift this year was a startup kit from bee-commerce.com. I must have talked about the wild bees often enough that my cousin Anne figured it was time for me to join the urban farming movement.
All I had to do was assemble the wooden boxes and frames and wait for a note from a Texas apiary telling me when and where to pick up my queen and her 3,500 attendants.
I was nervous, so I waited as long as possible to build my hive. My friend Beth, who is better with directions and a hammer than I, helped, and so did seven neighborhood kids, all under the age of 8.
Bees are social insects, so it made sense. The kids were patient, taking turns trying on the veil and long gloves, being gentle as they helped fill frames with foundations of wax the bees will use to make their new home, imparting bits of wisdom they’d picked up watching “Bee Movie.”
We were ready two weekends later, when the call came telling us to head to Zweck’s Organic Farm Stand in Longmont to pick up my colony. We loaded the small box, filled with so much life, into my car. Some bees who hadn’t quite made it into the box back in Texas clung to the outside of the cage. I was scared.
Back home, I took a deep breath, poured the bees into their new home and closed the top. And now we wait — for the bees to build their comb and fill it with nectar, larvae and pollen, and, we hope, eventually, enough honey to share. Join the conversation. E-mail grow@denverpost , or visit .
Dana Coffield
