Theme Day: Ageing (Where the Winner of the Inaugural Wyoming Award Gets Tested)

Several weeks ago, I enrolled in "Bee School," 

a day-long seminar presented by the Indiana Beekeepers

Association. In addition to displays brought in

by professional apiaries and suppliers, there were lectures

for advanced beekeepers, beginning beekeepers,

and people interested in keeping bees.

I fall into the latter category.

Since I needed to take a bus to the site of the event,

I checked the location on Google maps that displayed an

intersection near the end of the bus route from which

I would walk about a half mile to the high school

campus. "No problem," I said to myself, as I set off

to learn how to become a willing servant to those

little pollinators of our food supply.

The bus ride Saturday morning was non-eventful, 

winding through neighborhoods I'd never seen before,

taking me into the southwestern section of the city.

I got off the bus in an area that could only be described

as light industrial to rural. The only buildings in

evidence were warehouses that are transfer points

for cargo shipped to and from the nearby

Indianapolis International Airport, a regional hub 

for FedEx and UPS. I walked a quarter mile north, 

near the entrance to a warehouse serving a lot of FedEx 

semis - and saw nothing on the horizon but more warehouses.

I walked back to the intersection where I walked west along 

a two-lane paved road. At the top of the rise all I saw

was fallow ground bordered by barren trees.

It crossed my mind that me, a sixty-something woman

might become likely prey for a serial killer

long-haul truck driver. I'd never be heard from again.
Instead of getting scared wandering the roads, I got pissed.

 The Google map did not show the bus stop

on Kentucky Avenue where I could have just crossed

the street to arrive at my location. Instead, it had me 
walking a half mile from some isolated spot, 

nowhere near the school.

That's where I saw this speed limit sign, smothered 

in brush beside a long-abandoned road.

Back at the intersection, I was able to board the next

bus along that route. I asked the driver the location

of Decatur Central High School and was told it was just

about a mile from where the earlier driver

had dropped me off, across the street from where we'd

 first entered the development of apartments, 

a small specialty hospital, with the warehouses 

just beyond that. He told me he would let me off

right in front of the campus, and he did.

An hour late, I made it to Bee School. I'd expected 

a few hundred people to attend. Instead, I saw a 

couple thousand folks; the auditorium was full and the 

lectures I attended for beginning beekeepers

were standing room only. People of all ages bunched 

around the manufacturers' displays, including teen-agers

trying on coveralls and veils. I think I could get 

started on this part of my life odyssey for about $500.00, 

including my first package of bees.

And what has all this to do with today's CDP theme?

During one of the lectures, the beekeeper spoke about

the die-off of some of his bees during the winters.

He said that bees need to leave the hive every several

days to, well, take a shit. They do not want to dirty

their hive, so briefly fly outside then return to the warmth 

of their cluster. Some bees go outside to die

for the same reason. He used to work very hard

to save them only to find they would again leave the hive,

where he'd find their little bodies in the snow.

Eventually, the beekeeper learned it was a part 

of the natural process, that they knew better 

than he when their role was done.

Me? I am nowhere near ready to be found in some

isolated snow bank, curled up and down for the count. 

I have too many adventures ahead.

To see how other members of the City Daily Photo 

portal have interpreted today's theme, "Ageing," 

either click on the above link or on the CDP badge

to the right of this post.