For the Love of Bees.

Rituals of the Mother & gifts from the Underworld.

A few shots of my hive and a couple of inspiring books!

For a few years now during early summer bumblebees have had the habit of flying through the open windows into the various rooms of my little tin cottage, and for a few years I have gently escorted them out those windows and through the doors back on their buzzy way.

Even as I typed that sentence, a low sonorous hum with an accompanying fat, yellow and black striped body dozed by my head most likely laden with pollen gathered over a dreamy 70 degreed afternoon on its way to the hive which I recently made for it.

Oh! Have I not mentioned I have a beehive? Well, I do. It came to me rather unexpectedly a bit over a week ago as I was packing up the insulation which, during winter months, swaddles my water spigot under my house. Where I live, the spigot must be well wrapped as well as the pipes lest the whole contraption freeze during the subzero temperatures through winter months.

Little did I know, such conditions are somewhat ideal for bumblebee nests. Not the freezing temperatures, but the subterranean location filled with bits of fluff. I learned that bumblebees typically like to build their nests underground, preferably in a mouse’s former den or something of the like. They need the fluff to burrow in, and they are incapable of transporting it themselves, so the hatch which led to below my house was rather ideally suited.

I am fond of these creatures. A mere few weeks ago I picked one up from under my older granddaughter’s chair as she was eating dinner and escorted it by hand to the window where it buzzed off, off, and away! in an appropriate fashion. The 4-year-old was equally enchanted and alarmed as she first squealed, “It’s so friendly!” Then, when I turned to ‘introduce’ them, her cries quickly converted to, “No! No! Keep it away!” Okay, fine young one, but it won’t hurt you.

It takes quite a lot to agitate a bumblebee. Apparently removing their nest from its location, putting it unawares with a whole host of bees into a bag then releasing them is enough to do it. I found this out when one flew up my nostril and, upon its careful extraction, stung me right on the nose! Yes. This utterly freaked me out, but I immediately splashed cool water on my face, followed up with a cotton ball drenched in witch hazel straight to the nose and, minus some temporary swelling, I am no worse for wear. Perhaps a tad bit more wary, though.

So, that is how my bumblebee hive has come to me. I am a rather proud little bee momma. I have for a couple of years been manhandling the bees when they get lost in my house. I started out using something between us, a jar or some such thing, but last year I started approaching them barehanded; they seemed to realize that I was trying to help them. Bees can actually recognize faces, and bumblebees have been known to also play games as well as solve simple puzzles.

Bees are far from being mindless insects. They, and their history, are in fact bloody fascinating!

The organization of the hive is the foundation for matriarchal society. Ancient people observed the success of the hive and its hierarchy: queen, drone, worker bees and organized early social structures in a similar fashion. Each member of the hive is ‘born’ into its position for its specific duties to the community. They perform these duties and the hive thrives. Bees also have such short lifespans that none of what they build is actually for their own benefit. It is the future generations that reap the fruits of their labor.

Because bees emerge from underground and then fly through the air, they were long thought to be the messengers of the gods—oracles—and were capable of moving between the Underworld and the world of man.

I have long considered myself a Persephonite, a devotee to the goddess of the Underworld and, after retrieving my cat, who I named Inanna, from underneath my house—from the same place these bumblebees have now come from—it is fair to say the Mother has my attention.

It is thought the Elusinian mysteries, the mysteries of Demeter, have their origins in connection with bees and their keeper/priestesses, the Melissae, who would guide participants through the rituals. The ritual was based around the descent of Kore, the maiden, who I have spoken of in other essays and rituals. 

Kore, the maiden, was playing with companions when a crack in the earth opened up. She could hear cries coming from it and, wanting to help, followed the cries into the very Underworld itself. In later narrations of this tale, she is kidnapped by Hades against her will and forced to remain with him. Then she is tricked into returning for 6 months of the year when she eats pomegranate seeds which he offers her. In the older story the maiden seeks her initiation willingly. She dies and hangs from the great Tree and is resurrected 3 days later. This, too, is the story of Inanna, the Sumerian goddess of love, war, and fertility. Her story predates that of Persephone and Demeter. What attracts me to the variant that is most likely pre-Greician of the story (though I read it first in ‘Women Who Run With the Wolves’): it is her choice which changes the maiden Kore to the goddess Persephone. Perhaps this initiation was once meant to indicate the transition from maiden to mother—from a woman who cares for herself and her own pleasures to one who wraps her mantle around herself and others. 

Regardless of the details of the story, it is this tale which was used as an allegory to the shift in seasons, and it is this shift the Eleusinian mysteries honored. What went on in these rituals was a closely guarded secret, but it was the Melissae who instructed them, and it was from the observation of, and deep relationship with the bees that these practices were born. Like the Kore, the bee who will be queen goes into the underworld impregnated to hibernate, and emerges in spring to give rise to the life of her hive.

The entry of the bumbles into my world when they arrived feels highly prophetic. Upon Summer Solstice, during the ritual which I led, I had committed to Motherhood. I had committed to "nurture all which is within and around me". So what does the Mamma do? Bring me bees!

The waxy cluster which was their home fell from the insulation and landed at my feet just as they all lifted from the black plastic garbage bag I had mistakenly stuffed it along with the insulation into. This was when a very confused juvenile made a beeline up my nose! After extracting him, I returned to the hive and put it temporarily into a small cardboard box. Then I watched a bunch of YouTube videos on how to cajole bumblebees into your world, apparently it’s kind of hard, but no one really said what to do if one just ‘landed in your lap’, so I made it up. I found a wooden shelf at a thrift store for about $3, put a bunch of the insulation they like so much into it then, in one fell swoop, scooped up the wax cluster which was their nest and lifted the entire thing into the new container. I closed up all the sides but one with slate I already had, and…voila! Hive relocated.

I will never collect honey from these bees. They only make enough nectar to feed themselves and their hatchlings. They will not likely winter over with me. It’s possible the next generation’s queen will choose to hibernate there; I will do my best to assure her comfort and best chance of survival. Most likely they will be with me for this season. It gives me great pleasure to provide for beings whose only purpose is to pollinate—to support life.

Once in a while I slide back the slate and peek at them, but for the most part they are quite contained. If I lower my ear I can hear them from within the fluff quietly humming as they work. The queen immediately started in on a new nest. I watched her burrow into the fluff and have not seen her since. The original cluster, however, is gone! I assume they assimilated it for parts and used its material to begin building the new cluster which is well covered within all its insulating fluff.

They are rather humble and quite private. I wish people knew... I want people to know how important, how special they are. So now you do.