Bees and Golden Honey


My Dad started two bee hives this past spring when everything was green and flowering. When I visited, I would try to take pictures of the bees loaded down with pollen as they flew back and forth.

Their busyness is captivating to watch.

Each time I went with my dad to check on the hives, he would open the lid and the sweet smell of honey and wax would hit me in the face and tickle my memories.


When I was a kid, my Grandpa raised bees. He always kept a gallon-sized glass jar with honeycomb cubes in it for his grand kids. The jar sat on top of the refrigerator waiting for us. I remember popping a cube in my mouth—oh the raw-honey goodness. We would spend the rest of the afternoon chewing the wax like gum.


Those time-slowing memories of childhood fun always made me want to raise bees. So, when my parents told me they were going to start an apiary, I don’t know who was more excited—me or them.


So this year, on Black Friday I didn’t run out and hit all the stores. Instead, I spent an easy afternoon helping my dad harvest honey from one of his two hives. As I played with my dad, watched and learned more about the bees, and separate the honey from the comb, it felt like I was creating another time-slowing memory to savor.

I wonder if that future memory will be triggered by the taste or the smell of raw honey.

Maybe I should find a gallon-sized jar so my dad can save honeycomb cubes for my kids and their kids—to pass on the sweet memories.

Do you have any tastes or smells that trigger fond memories?

I’d love to hear them.


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