Being your own boss is nice. You get to decide what you want to do, when and how. As an employee, I report to work when I’m scheduled, do the tasks I’m trained for, and stay until it’s all done. But as a writer for whydobees.com, I have the option of waiting for an idea to rise up, trusting that the right side of my brain is doing its thing as I go through my day. I can decide if this idea is worthwhile and take the time to let it percolate. Some days the words roll off my pencil onto the paper; other days the practical words concerning holidays or visitors or appointments and obligations nudge the creative ones aside. An idea is released only if and when I bless it as ready. Painter, writer, or musician . . . all artists know intuitively how to let the magic happen within the parameters of disciplined creativity.
Honey bees are diligent workers and skilled artists. But they are not their own boss. Even if we remove the beekeeper that manages the hives and reinforces their schedule, they’re still not the boss. They answer to universal cues. The tilt of the earth and its place in space relative to the sun drive the temperature and light cycles they answer to. The complex interactions of the ecosystem effect their health. Even earth’s geological features have an influence. It’s a balancing act with many variables. Though honey bees live in an autonomous colony and their activities determine the livelihood of the hive, they are also at the direction and sometimes the mercy of things beyond their control.
At no time in a bee-year is this more apparent than a warm sunny day in June. It’s like the tarp has been flung off a canvas, revealing the culmination of their efforts. Honey bees have been working hard all winter, when the sun still arcs low over the sky, the nights are long, and the deep, deep cold of January settles in.
Since late November, it’s been just the girls, one big slumber party in the darkness of the hive. Picture a mass of worker bees, heads facing inward with the queen in the middle, all vibrating their wing muscles to keep the temperature a toasty 80 degrees F. The queen stays warm in the center while the workers make trips to the pantry for honey (a healthy-sized hive will consume 30 pounds of the stuff in a winter), and very quick forays to the outside to eliminate waste on days when temperatures reach the mid-40s. This winter generation of workers is aging by now, and the queen keeps her pheromone pulse on things. If the pantry is well stocked with honey and pollen, she may be stimulated to lay eggs, even in these cold days of January and February. This maintains the population of winter bees and is also the precursor to spring egg-laying which explodes as temperatures drift upward, and more importantly, as light stays in the sky longer each day, waking flower blooms that will be their first source of new nectar.
And then they get creative. Honey bees create perfect hexagons out of beeswax that they meticulously clean and polish for their brood or for honey and pollen storage. They dance in the hive, weaving intricate patterns that tell other bees where the best flowers are. A new queen flies out to join in a mating dance with drones. Workers set up brood chambers with the eye of an interior designer – the nursery in the center of strategically placed honey- and pollen-filled hexagons. Honey itself is a culinary work of art with just the right blend of nectar, water, enzymes and secret ingredients.
What drives the creative urge? Whether it’s hexagons or dances, a musical score or a painting, or even dinner. We respond to basically the same cues honey bees respond to. It shows in our hunger and sleep patterns, the growth cycles of our nails and hair. There are the larger patterns of growth and senescence, coordinated on microscopic levels that change our features, how we think, and how we function over time. Our lifespan and lifestyle may be different but the DNA and the instructions inside are the same.
So, is the honey bees’ instinct to create perfectly ergonomic, space-saving, symmetrical, beautiful hexagons work or art? Is it any different from the human desire to string notes together to make music or blend a palette of colors to create a painting? Thousands of years ago, music and art were means of communication for survival, right alongside hunting and gathering, childrearing, and protecting one’s clan. It’s in our DNA and it’s in the cycles and patterns this unique universe weaves. Maybe the pull of creativity is like this too and we’re not really our own boss after all.