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| Honeycomb. Image via NY Times. |
Her bees, the ones she had been raising in Red Hook, Brooklyn, and on Governors Island since May, started coming home to their hives looking suspicious. Of course, it was the foragers — the adventurers, the wild waggle dancers, the social networkers incessantly buzzing about their business — who were showing up with mysterious stripes of color. Where there should have been a touch of gentle amber showing through the membrane of their honey stomachs was instead a garish bright red. The honeycombs, too, were an alarming shade of Robitussin.Whether it's vanishing hives or glowing red maraschino bees, I'm the grandson of an apiarist and have a resultant long-standing interest in the fate of the bumbles.
Via FriendFeed's John (a.k.a. Dendroica)
