It was the last of summer. The bees seemed desperate making a last effort to collecting nectar. The hummingbirds, far wiser had long abandoned the fluted gems in the garden. Marla pulled the white cotton body suit up around her tiny waist and slid the smock over her shoulders. Her hood was already partially zipped, but that was the final piece of the garment she wanted to put on. Even though it was vented, the screen over her face made her feel like she couldn't take a full breath.
She knelt in the grassy field tamping down the pine needles into the smoker. When she lit it she squeezed the accordion handle several times until the gentle grey smoke trickled out of the nozzle. She finally zipped the cap to her bee keepers suit and slid on her gloves. When she approached the bees were active. They landed on her buzzing close to her ear.
She used her knife to dislodge the wax seal around the box and pulled off the top. When she slid the screens out into her tub they were only half full, but it was the final harvest and it was somewhat better than she expected. She left the long flat pack of feed for the bees so they could prepare for the coming winter. She hope the hive would be bolstered and fare well through the coming season.
As she pulled the wagon toward the barn she pulled off her hat and let the breeze wipe the dampness from her forehead. It always was a relief to leave the hive. Even though she was grateful for the thirty or so jars she would collect she still wished hummingbirds made honey.
