Racing with the Moon
The black branches with their now swelling buds formed a silhouette against the full moon as I raced down the empty highway. The lunar wraith ran through the branches and trunks ever keeping pace as I sped toward my clandestine destination. Before me lay the roadway playing hide-and-seek with my headlights …taunting them to light the seemingly impenetrable darkness just beyond their reach. Nary had a single car passed me in either direction as I made my mid-night run some fifty miles from the safety and security of my home; yet I must complete my mission. My head swam with anticipation and excitement as I thought about the cargo soon to be entrusted to my care. Exhaustion too, filled me as I was not used to being up so late and into the witching hours of the predawn Easter Sunday darkness.
As I came upon the Interstate junction there was little change! Very few cars impeded my progress. The only lights ahead were the looming superstructure of the Tappan Zee Bridge intensifying the blackness of the mighty Hudson River one hundred feet below. Scarcely fifteen minutes to my destination and my mind reeled with what I would find at this nocturnal meeting. Would I find a vast empty lot devoid of humanity? Would I find my barely known “connection” awaiting me? Surely not! As he had a longer trek than I. Would there be lurking about sleazy denizens of the night up to nefarious deeds ready to pounce on the unwary and hapless unfortunate who came within their grasp? All was shortly to be seen. Glancing out the window I saw the moon still racing beside me like some celestial Guardian Angel. This gave me some assurance, at least, because it was the only familiar face I saw in the darkness.
I reached my destination! The large parking lot now clear of all vehicles loomed before me like a vast empty plain. From the rise at the entrance I could see in the distance ahead a lone lamppost with an apparently derelict scarlet truck waiting beneath its dimly cast light. It back door open but hidden in the bleakness of darkness like some gaping maw, or the entrance to the netherworld itself. Gingerly I made my way across the void of the parking lot toward … I didn’t know what. With great trepidation I pulled alongside the hulking vehicle, turned off my engine, and slinked from the cab of my pickup. I made my way around to the back where waited to imposing giants of men, one looking like an evil caricature of Santa Claus with tobacco stains streaking down his billowing white beard while the other, seemingly oblivious to my arrival anxiously counted his gilt like the enshrouded Charon, the boatman of the River Styx. Without greeting I offered my consideration …goods changed hands and with hardly a passing word the two giants loaded up their remaining cargo and vanished into the night from which they had come. I now stood there alone with my treasure! Nothing to be heard but the gusting of the wind across the lonely parking lot and a feint murmuring, nay, a feint buzzing as I examined my prize …three, 3 lb. packages of newly disturbed and slightly perturbed honeybees. I held them up to the now flickering and faulty light, ever threatening to plunge me into utter blackness without qualms. As I examined them I noticed all around me in the darkness movement. What was this? I could make out figures in the distance but dared not wait to discern if they were for good or evil. Likely evil, my mind reasoned for what God fearing folk would be out in the darkness of this early Easter morn unless for evil or for some unavoidable mission, such as mine. I loaded my precious cargo into the passenger’s side of the cab, made a dash for the driver’s seat, and quickly got underway. As I drove once again northward toward the safety of home through roads more empty then on my trip down, I was greatly comforted knowing that the worst was now behind and I would soon be abed as most decent folk were.
… And so folks that’s how I picked up my latest stock of honeybees for another season of beekeeping for the year of 2012 here at Hunny-Bunny Farm. It seems the supplier, who lives in far Eastern Connecticut, had made the plans to pick up a truckload of stock from the Georgia apiaries way back in December 2011 before realizing that the earliest deliver actually fell on Easter Sunday. Be that as it may, it certainly gave me a chance to embellish a simple story into a near epic, no? I can’t help it …it’s my ancient Celtic penchant for storytelling along with my personal predilection of concocting balderdash!
The three bees were installed on Easter Sunday afternoon,
of course, and are now happily abuzz in their new hive.
I wish all readers of Catholic Rural Solutions and their families a joyous and happy Easter. Remember, He is truly Risen!
Richard of Danbury, D.S.G.