The words of Jason Morganson, the producer teaching Cody to collect the sweet and sticky substance, rang in the youngster's ears.

The instructor told the avid, eager, learner, "Bees are so humble. They are also a necessary cornerstone of local ecosystems and pollinate the living crapola out of crops. All this helps keep the food web we are on top of, woven."

Cody quickly picked up how much bees depended on plants to not only reproduce, and create more bees, but as the food they needed for their honey-making expeditions.

One day while tending the hives, Mr. Morganson explained, "When bees do not have anything to eat we all feel their hurt."

"Is that why the rains we sometimes get in Astatula are so bad for them?" Cody asked.

Mr. Morganson studied the boy and said, "When there are no flower blossoms the bees do not eat."

Six months earlier, Cody had begun his beekeeping hobby on Mr. Morganson's ten acre farm. He learned how bees fertilized the wild pears, red mulberries, chickasaw plums, snap peas, tomatillo used to make home-made salsa, and pumpkins grown on the land.

Cody asked Mr. Morganson, "How long have you kept bees!"

The old man scratched the remnant of hair that remained on top of his otherwise bald head. In deep contemplation he replied, "Oh, I reckon most my life."

Cody knew his beekeeping mentor stored jars of his honey in the cellar beneath his house. He offered them to his friends in the small West Texas hamlet. The rest he sold at local farmers' markets.

"Lots of people wanted my raw honey. Why, I recall the first time I set up shop in my old barn. I sold out of everything I'd jarred in two hours," the proud keeper boasted.

Always a budding enterpriser, Cody liked the sound of Mr. Morganson's words. Dollar signs danced in his head. He told Mr. Morganson, "I could learn to do that."

"Well, since you know nothing about the intricate workings, or how to maintain bee colonies, I would be willing to educate you concerning what I do know about keeping bees," Mr. Morganson smiled back at him.

Cody soon discovered a huge part of operating an apiary came from the right type of flowers for the bees to make the proper kind of honey he desired. He promised himself one day the little entrepreneur would own an octagonal gazebo he would attach to a garden wall to house his bees.

Mr. Morganson explained, "Each flower provides a different flavor for the bees, and some are harder to find than others. To be the best beekeeper you can be, you have to become a honey flow chaser. That means learning where flowers bloom at any certain time."

Cody became more proficient at producing a variety of honey native to the part of Texas where he lived including alfalfa, whitebrush, and his most favorite of all flavors, wildflower. That one was the easiest for Cody to make because many varieties of wildflowers could be used to feed his bees. Probably because they remained abundant, before long, he ventured into bluebonnet honey as well.

One bright afternoon, Mr. Morganson pulled a yellow daffodil, with under-developed petals, and stated, "Cody, you need to remember a main point in your beekeeping is poor flowers like this one will always produce poor honey no matter what plants you feed your bees." He paused a moment and stated, "Sometimes you get better results than you do on other occasions."

His never-give-up attitude apparent, Cody responded, "You just gotta keep on trucking."

Mr. Morganson guffawed out loud and snorted through his nostrils. He promised Cody, "I am going to do all I can to help you succeed. I appreciate your ambitiousness. Just remember what I tell you, el machacho, come what may you have to do all you can to sustain your bees."

Knowing he would keep trying new tactics to track down what methods worked best for his industrious forays, Cody responded, " The sheriff has even started letting me keep a couple hives on our property, just not too close to the doors. He doesn't want any bees to get in the house."

Beekeeping fit in well with the chickens Cody raised. They also provided the lad another outlet to burn off some of his excess energy. Cody removed a frame from a hive to check on the colony of bees therein.

With gloves to protect his hands, and adorned in full-bodied overalls, Cody was glad he always wore his wide-brimmed beekeeper's hat and veil when he handled his bees, even if its mesh did drape down over his shoulders.