You fall for venomous creatures who have absolutely no loyalty to you or your interests. Who will sting you mercilessly without remorse. Who can up and leave when they feel the need, who will go wherever they please.
And then there is the weather over which you have no control. Which will dictate a good or bad season. A heavy or light nectar flow. A healthy or weak colony.
And then there are the flowers. They may arrive hard and fast or not at all. They may be pollen or nectar light. You could run out of boxes or you could be feeding bees sugar syrup.
And then there are the diseases, the viruses, the pests, the pesticides, the herbicides, and the insecticides.
There is man's obsession with his damn food desert of a lawn. Loss of meadows and weeds and wild flowers that sustain bees. Monocultures, self pollinating GMO crops. Global warming and warped seasons. The indecipherable worldwide bee and pollinator decline.
Fluctuating honey prices, undermined by Chinese imports. Laundered honey from 10 different countries full of corn syrup and toxic antibiotics and you watch people put them in their shopping baskets because they are cheaper, come in a squeegee bottle and taste sort of like the real thing. They bypass the local treasures, unaware that the making of which has enriched their gardens, parks, mountains and food baskets.
The loneliness of being an unsung hero solely and secretively baring the back bending toil lest his sites get poached or robbed.
But then there is the miracle, here in every harvest.
Only honey with is inexhaustible blends of sweetness can fill your longing.
And the bees, 'the messengers of love', bringing their alchemy to your life, tirelessly manifesting. Who's hummmm you come to adore as you lift the lid of another hive not knowing what you will find inside. And when you work with them it is Christmas every day. And your heartaches, which are nothing in the face of this, dissolve into sweetness on your tongue.
And now you ask in your heart, "How shall we distinguish that which is good in pleasure from that which is not good?"
Go to your fields and your gardens, and you shall learn that it is the pleasure of the bee to gather honey of the flower, But it is also the pleasure of the flower to yield its honey to the bee.
For to the bee a flower is a fountain of life, And to the flower a bee is a messenger of love,
And to both, bee and flower, the giving and the receiving of pleasure is a need and an ecstasy. 'On Pleasure' - Kahlil Gibran