CHAPTER 5
Be Curious

The rooster began crowing at 5:00 a.m. So much for sleeping in and being well-rested. There was nothing about a rooster in the brochure I had read about the farm, nor in the kids' PowerPoint presentation. Thankfully, I was an early riser, albeit this was about 45 minutes before I usually awoke.

I turned over to see if our new rooster friend woke my husband, too, but he had managed to bring his noise-canceling headphones. This led me to believe he had done some additional research about H. Ives Family Farms and failed to disclose the output of that research to me.

I was not worried about the kids. They sleep through anything, and also they stayed up past midnight last night. Actually, we all had. We played Uno and roasted s'mores and the girls ran around the farm with other children. The kids seemed much more interested in making friends than the parents did. The parents were outside on their cabin porches watching the kids run around while enjoying time with their significant other. The market lights strung between the trees lit up the pasture between all the cabins. The back of the cabins all faced the same direction, so it was easy to see the parents pretty much doing the same thing.

Normally, I would expect to see the soft glow of cell phones on people's faces in the darkness. Not here. It seems everyone was trying to Be Present last night.

This morning, I laced up my running shoes, unlatched the cabin door, and made my way down the path to the lake. It was dark out, but solar lights lit up the path, and I could hear the hustle and bustle of the H. Ives workers getting ready for the day. I started to run, and the strong smell of the farm was making me long to find that eucalyptus and herb garden I had smelled on the previous day. I had been running for about 15 minutes when I came across another well-lit path that took me in a different direction, away from the lake.

I decided to take the turn down this new road - it was beautiful. The trees and the smells were different. While I did not smell the eucalyptus, I did smell honeysuckle trees. It was lovely in the morning. I realized in that moment that we didn't have a honeysuckle essential oil line at Essentially Proximal, but we should have one. I couldn't help but think about our company for a moment - so much change - so many possibilities.

I usually ran about 3 miles every morning, and as I neared 1.5 miles, I prepared to turn around and head back to the cabin. The sun was beginning to rise, and I could hear the cows and goats in the distance. As I was making my turn, I saw a gentleman standing in the brush all decked out in what appeared to be a white hazmat suit. He had boots and gloves on, but his head was uncovered. He was lifting a thermos of what I assumed to be coffee to take a sip. I was not going to say anything, but he greeted me.

"Well, hello and good morning," he said.

I smiled and slowed down my pace and waved. I returned the greeting.

Trying to be funny, I said, "Is this some sort of biohazard area I've stumbled upon?"

I received a small chuckle. "No, Miss, you're in the best part of this farm," he said, before he took another sip of coffee.

I began jogging in place to keep up my heart rate. I try to get all the rings on my fitness watch to close on my watch each day, and I was not sure how long of a conversation this was going to be.

"Oh really?" I said. "Where am I?"

"Well, I am Henry Ives, the owner of the farm, and this is my sanctuary!"

"Oh, you're Helen's husband," I said. "I met her yesterday."

"Actually, Helen is my daughter," he said, "but thanks for the compliment."

Between the hazmat suit and the darkness, I did not realize this guy was so much older. I apologized and re-phrased my response.

"Well, your daughter is lovely," I said.

I realized it would be awkward to keep jogging at this point. My jog became a stand as my heartrate slowed.

"Thanks," he said, "She's a peach, for sure. How about joining me for a cup of coffee? Fresh brewed about 5 minutes ago."

He pointed to a small shed and a picnic table. I could smell the coffee and I decided to indulge. I was feeling the effects of the rooster.

"What's your name?" he asked me.

"Catherine with a C," I said.

He paused and the look on his face went from happiness to melancholy. He rebounded quickly and said, "That was my wife's name, too. What a fine name, and nice to meet you, Catherine."

I assumed the past tense in his response meant she was no longer with him. He poured me a cup of coffee, and I decided not to ask any questions regarding his wife. Fortunately, he started asking me questions. We talked about my family's vacation plans, the kids' activity list, and a bit about my company and what it did. He nodded and smiled, drank his coffee, and appeared to want to ask more questions, but I still had a burning question of my own. I wanted to ask him about his outfit.

"Henry, what is with the outfit you are wearing?" I asked. "And why did you say this is the best place on the farm - your sanctuary?"

"It looks like I've got a curious one on my hands," he said, as he put the coffee down. "Well, this here place is at the core of learning and growth," he said. "And this here white suit is a beekeeper's outfit. I guess it does kind of look like a hazmat suit," he said with a chuckle.

"The core of learning and growth?" I asked.

"You betcha!" Henry said. "Care to go on a bit of a walk with me?"

At first, I wanted to say no and get back to the kids, but then I thought of his late wife and the power of the universe. I was also curious about being at the core of learning and growth. I must have paused a bit longer than I wanted as I sorted out my response because Henry spoke again.

"You are not the slightest bit curious? Come on, Be Curious," he said.

I smiled and followed Henry down the path a bit further.

We came to the bee sanctuary, which was like an entertainment venue with a glass wall that peered out into a neighboring pasture where you could see a number of beehives in the distance. It looked like the venue was being prepared for an event. We entered into the huge, beautiful wooden cedar shed at one end of the sanctuary. I looked around and noticed a lone glass-enclosed beehive sitting toward the back of the shed where the bees could fly outside and back to the hive - but fortunately, they could not enter the shed.

This beehive, being glass, showed exactly what the bees were doing. I was amazed, and speechless; there must have been hundreds of bees in that hive. The bees were so active, and the honeycomb design was so intriguing. I wanted to tap the glass, like a kid in an aquarium, to see if I could get a reaction, but I tempered my childlike thoughts. I could see how the hive was operating, and right next to the hive was a table with some honey jars. I was in awe.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"This is my hive" he said.

"You're a beekeeper?" I asked.

"I am. And a farmer," he chuckled.

"This is remarkable. I have never seen anything like this. The honeycombs are so perfect, and there are so many bees!"

Just then my husband pinged my phone and asked where I was. I told him I was on a jog and was talking with Henry Ives, the owner of the farm. He told me to take my time; the kids were still sleeping, and he was going to read on the porch. This was perfect. Guilt-free curiosity, here I come!

"What are all these bees doing inside this hive?" I asked. "Did they build all that honeycomb?"

"They did build that honeycomb. In fact, bees are natural mathematicians. Bees create the honeycomb in a hexagon shape. It is the most efficient use of space in the hive; it utilizes the least bee resources, such as the wax that maximizes the honeycomb, and, interestingly, the hexagon shape stores the most honey," Henry said.

"Remarkable." I turned to look at Henry. "Do you sell honey here?"

"Well, we do sell their honey, but it is not the primary reason we have this hive. You see everything on this farm is the way it is because of these bees. The food you eat here, the flowers you see and smell, the grass for the horses and sheep, the lake - the bees take care of it all," Henry said.

Henry saw the puzzled look on my face. He walked me over to the hive and began to explain in more detail.

"You see, a healthy beehive functions as a well-oiled machine, thanks to tens of thousands of bees, performing their jobs dutifully. Bees function as a unit or team. Their workforce is capable of pollinating thousands of acres of flowering plants, producing upwards of 100 pounds of honey per year and continuously making new bees, so the hive can thrive."

That is so interesting, I thought. "Do bees always get along in the hive?" I asked.

"You see, Catherine, when everyone is focused on the same mission, they will all get along. Each bee has a very specific job and is not more important than the other. It...