On this mid-July morning at Two Trees, the cicadas sing in sizzling seduction, a rhythmic counterpoint to the cuckoo calling from the creek side and the busy bickering of purple finches at the feeder. The Cardinal family’s latest chick, now well fledged, begs piteously from her father and older sister, although she is fully capable of cracking sunflower seeds for herself. I wonder how long they will indulge her. Through the open screen, I hear the low-pitched drone of one of our female hummingbirds, coming to drink from the well of nectar we provide, followed by sharp twittering as a male contests her right of place. On the nearby dining table, the cats chatter in excitement.
It will be hot again today, the temperature and humidity alien to my Norse and Germanic Ancestors, and I do not tolerate North Carolina summers well. I say a silent prayer to Surtr, primal God of fire, and another that one of the Four Winds might come to balance his heat. For now, the boughs of beech and hemlock are utterly still.
Before the day grows unbearable, My Lady Freya calls me and I slip into my sneakers and wander across the garden to the bee yard. The Monarda and Lemon Balm are rampant mounds, spilling over to block the paths, and it is clear the Siberian Iris will need to be thinned as well, come fall. The sweet, even hum of the Little Sisters can be felt as well as heard. Even this early, they are about their tasks, coming and going from their lavender-painted hives with focus and a sense of purpose I admire.
Alpha hive has struggled for the past two years. Later to warm in the day, they remain less robust. The Italian blonds who tend their Queen are larger, amber and gold. Sadly, I wonder if the time has come to replace their Regent with a newer, more vital Queen. Beta hive’s Carniolans are fuzzy and grayish, somewhat smaller but very diligent. Despite swarming in May, they draw comb and make honey with remarkable efficiency and we’ll soon be able to harvest thanks to their efforts. My Lady will have the first sweet, golden taste.
Hail Vanadis,
Lady of Honey and Amber,
Cat-walker, both fair and fierce
Bless this holy land, these plants and creatures
Bless the hard journey that brought me to You
Bless the Little Sisters and the wonders they accomplish
May I serve You with the joy they know.
Sunna crests the hill to the East and spills Her morning light all golden-green through the forest and then across the meadow, and high against the pale aqua sky, a Red-tail Hawk soars, calling for pure joy. “I see you, Brother,” I say, and smile.