Summertime in the Adirondacks is stunning but brief. The growing season is only four months but is packed with beauty.
Tim is already swimming in the ponds. I hesitate, to his dismay: too cold, too windy, too many weeds reaching for my legs and arms. And now I have heard snapping turtles ply these waters. I’ll wade in soon when the deeper lakes warm up.
My local beekeepers’ group met at my hives last week and declared they are doing fine. All three have queens, are laying eggs and gathering honey. That means one hive raised a queen all by itself.
They selected an egg, plumped it up with royal jelly, she hatched, took her maiden flight, mated with a few drones, and made it back to the hive without getting picked off by a bird or dragonfly. And there she will remain for the rest of her days.
Perhaps I will get at least one jar of honey in July. This nectar bloom is short and sweet.
We moved to the Adirondacks in the winter of 2009 after only coming up in the snow. How lucky to find summer is even better.