Lotte Möller became a beekeeper in the 1980's. Not as a career; she was a freelance contributor to radio programmes and after doing one on beekeepers she became interested. She kept at it for about ten years, learning the ins and outs of bees, beekeeping, and the politics of beekeepers associations. Then, as she began spending more time commuting and her home became more urban and, you know, she got older, she stopped. But then, she found, she missed it. Writing a book about it was a way to keep in touch with the world of bees and the people whose company they keep.
The first part is divided into 12 chapters, one for each month of the year, but that is really just a jumping off point from which she riffs on all the many centuries of human experience at keeping bees. Renaissance, medieval, and ancient writers alike had much to say about bees and how to keep them, and in many cases they illustrated them in whatever style of art was current. Möller shows us many of these illustrations, and I have to say that the book itself was a delight, not only the words it contained. Part two concerns the present (and by implication the possible future), some trends worrisome and some more encouraging. It concludes with a list of "Bee museums around the world". Sadly, none of the ones listed for the U.S. are within easy driving distance, but then there are plenty of bees in town if I wanted to go have a look.
I grew up on a patch of land which contained several acres of peach trees, and in order to make sure that they were pollinated, a local beekeeper was invited to put some hives nearby. I would, from time to time, stand nearby them in the spring or early summer, and watch them busily fly in and out. I only recall being stung once, when an unfortunate (and apparently uncoordinated) bee flew into me instead of around me like all the rest. I didn't take it too personally, as the bee itself was far worse for it than I, but I did stand a bit further off after that.
This is not the sort of book that has a real plot, nor the sort that gives a call to action. In a way, it was satisfying in the same way that standing there and watching the bees come and go was. Meditative, almost. I read a chapter a night for a few weeks, in bed, just before going to sleep. Reading about (and seeing pictures of) how the grand sweep of time has changed, and not changed, the life of Apis mellifera, the honey-bearing bee, puts the concerns and upsets of the day in perspective, and (for me at least) leads to a calm and quiet rest.