My husband Andy got a bee hive a few weeks ago. It is in our yard, and there are 5,000 bees in it.  I was a bit alarmed, at first, to say the least. My friend Jenny, my sister, Jill and I all sat in the hot tub on the the evening that the bees moved in. Bees like water. I didn't really know that. So, a few bees began buzzing around the hot tub. Jenny remained fairly calm. I can't say the same for Jill and I. Anytime a bee would fly by, we would stiffen and yell out each other's names. We formed a plan while we sat "relaxing". If a bee approached, we were going under. It was that simple. We would just hold our breath until the bee took up a new location. Well, that plan went awry when a bee flew close to my sisters face. The only thing I caught, was her naked body jumping out of the hot tub, very quickly. And then, she looked in a panic, even a little bit of drool coming out of her mouth, as she cried, "Oh, Jenny, Oh, Jenny." She couldn't get her flip flops on, so she ran as fast as she could to the house, her towel flapping in the wind. I turned and looked at Jenny, whose mouth was hanging open in startled concern. I was laughing my ass off. The Brady's have always been over-reactors. Bless our hearts. Jill's okay. No bee sting. And the funny thing is, Andy and his beekeeper friend have told us: They don't want to hurt you. They will only sting you if they feel threatened. So, remain calm. Hmmm, this was kind of hard at first. The second I hear that buzzing, I swat. I just do. I am not sure why.

Fast forward a week or so. I started warming to the bees. Knowing they are our pollenators and our honey makers. They keep things moving in our natural world. Then, Andy brought in a honey comb that they had made. Wow. It is a miracle. These 5,000 bees make these perfectly shaped hexagons. Just naturally. It is just in their nature to make these beautiful things. It is a reminder that if we trust, we are here to create beauty. We just are. And by the looks of this honeycomb and the sweet, thick taste of their honey, bees know this truth. The honeycomb smells so pure, so sweet. I also love how bees do their jobs. The drones don't say, I want to be the queen. And the worker bees don't say, I want to be a drone. They all take pride in their job and they do it. And their community runs smoothly. Not a whole lot of ego here, as far as I can tell.

I found myself one sunny afternoon, walking over to the hive with curiosity. As I stood there, bees flew over head. And I could see them land and scuttle into the hive, with bright orange pollen on their legs. I saw others fly out, on their way to some plump poppy next door. I breathed and centered myself as I heard the buzzing. A lot of buzzing, as a matter of fact. 5,000 bees, remember. They weren't all out, of course, but still just knowing I am near that many bees is a bit unsettling. I stayed there a while. And just watched. I felt like I was intruding. Peeking in on something sacred.

I sit in the hot tub every night and many afternoons. And even in the brightest of sunlight, the bees don't bother me anymore. I don't even hear them most times. But on my walk the other morning, I saw one of our bees in the alley. I know it was one of ours. I could just tell. I think I might be growing to love these bees. Or at the very least, my respect grows for them. With their buzzing, they are teaching me how to breathe and feel my feet on the ground. And that is the beginning of Life.