I was speaking with a friend today about the nature of range management and the restoration of California grasslands.  Thinking about what California used to be like when the land was stewarded by its people.  Thinking about the effects of non-native grasses or the loss of habitatfor our wild creatures.  

I woke up Monday morning to sirens, smoke and a litany of texts from concerned family and friends.  The first text I read was from my housemate telling me Santa Rosa, the city where I live, was on fire.  The city itself.  Within minutes I was dressed and throwing belonging into my car, searching the blackened skyline for flames, and trying to find out if I was in immediate danger. 

The dreams were waking me up at night.  Black widows inside my home.  Black widows all over the ceiling.  Black widows building webs closer and closer to me.  No way out.  I am not particularly afraid of spiders, although I am cautious of black widows, having grown up in an old 1930s home.  I tried to reason out why I was having these nightmares.  I read about black widow symbolism.  I questioned my relationship to spider, web and venom.  For two weeks my nights were filled with the dark ladies.  Then, one morning, after other terrifying infestation dream, I opened my eyes and said aloud “It’s my bees.  There is a black widow inside my hive.”

This morning I sat in a garden teaming with the birds and the bees.  Humming birds noisily darted between creeping vines of nasturtiums, red raspberries hung plump and inviting from semi-orderly thickets, honeybees swooned in the fuzzy clumps of borage, and zucchini’s performed their summer competition for Most Alarmingly Large Vegetable. 

In Northern California there is still snow in the hills and rain on the weather forecast.  However, despite the winter chill, it’s time to start thinking about getting bees.  Regardless of where you live, late winter is the time most local bee breeders start selling bee packages and nuc.  You wont receive your bees until the spring, but if you want to ensure you’re going to get bees this season, it’s best to buy them now.

Melissa bends low and plucks a small herb growing out of the cobble stones in front of her house.  She holds it up to the light and shows me the tiny perforated holes in the leaves.  

“That’s how you can tell it’s the medicinal St. John’s Wort.”