A central theme of the book The Thing About Bees is that “it is brave to try to understand the things that scare us” – and this journaling activity will help students be brave when observing living bees.

By the end of this activity, students will be able to:

- List and demonstrate strategies for staying safe around bees

- Communicate observations about bees and flowers using words, pictures, and numbers

- Articulate questions about bee activity

Intended Audience

Students in grades K-2

NGSS Alignment

- Crosscutting Concepts: Patterns, Systems and System Models

- Practices of Science and Engineering: Asking Questions, Developing Models, Obtaining and Communicating Information

- Disciplinary Core Ideas: LS1.C: Organization for Matter and Energy Flow in Organisms

Time

40-60 minutes

Location & Weather

This activity will be most successful on a warm, sunny day. Ahead of time, scout out a location on your school campus that has flowers – these can be in a garden, or they can be dandelions or clovers in a field – and spend a few minutes there to get a sense for the bee (or other insect) traffic. Note that bees’ activity can change throughout the day, so try to scout your location around the same time of day as you plan to facilitate this activity.

Materials

- “The Thing About Bees” by Shabazz Larkin

- Nature journals, science or writing notebooks, or paper and clipboards

- Pencils

- Small white board and marker

Student Activities

Reading: 10 minutes

First, read “The Thing About Bees” by Shabazz Larkin.

Discussion: 5-10 minutes

After reading the book, ask students: “How many of you are afraid of bees, spiders, bugs, or other small animals?” Many students will raise their hands. Share with them the author’s note: “It’s brave to try to understand the things that scare us.” Explain that in this activity, they’ll get to practice being brave about something that might scare them: real live bees.

Invite students to share ideas about how they can be safe around bees – they may offer ideas like “stay calm” and “don’t swat at them.” After the group has shared all of their ideas, turn to the two-page spread at the back of the book, “Everything you need to know about how not to get stung.” Read all of the bee safety and etiquette tips in the upper part of the right-hand page.

Next, remind students that there are many kinds of flying insects in the world, and only some of them are bees, and only some of them will sting. Use the “Kind to kinda mean” scale to show students how to tell a bee from a wasp. Reiterate that it’s important to be calm and respectful around all insects, but that some of them require more caution than others. Also point out that the book uses a combination of pictures and words to show lots of information about each type of insect.

Journaling: 20-30 minutes

Explain that in this next part of the activity, the group will be going outside to look for their very own live bees, and that they will be taking notes – and asking questions – like scientists. Invite students to get their journals or clipboards and pencils, and head out to your journaling location. On the way there, pause and remind students that the best way to stay safe around bees is to stay calm. Invite students to pretend that you are a bee, and ask them to show you what they’ll do when you come close to them. Remind them that quiet voices, still bodies, and deep breaths are good strategies to use.

When you arrive at your journaling location, first ask students to sit in a place where they can see and hear you. Explain that before they go searching for bees, they need to record some big picture information. Lead them through recording the date, time, and location on their page, using your white board as an example.

Note: for students who are still developing writing skills, encourage them to work at their current level. This may include just using pictures, using the first letter of a word, or sounding out single words or short phrases.

Next, explain that they also need to record the current weather, but to do this, they should use a combination of words, pictures, and numbers. Model this on your board: use words like “sunny” or “breezy”, use symbols like a simple sun or a squiggle for breeze, and estimate the temperature or the number of clouds in the sky.

Explain that the final piece of big picture information is how they are feeling. Invite them to check in with their mind and body, and then to use words, pictures, and numbers to describe what they noticed. Give examples such as feelings words, emojis, or a body battery. Be sure to let students know that it’s totally fine to feel more than one thing at a time: for example, they might be excited to be outside, and also nervous to be looking for bees.

Once students have completed their big picture information, explain that they will be using the same strategy of using words, pictures, and numbers to describe one or more insects that they see in the flowers. Let students know that they will not only be describing what the animals look like, they will also describe what they are doing, and where: are they flying, sitting still, walking across the top of a flower or on a stem? Are they staying at one flower or moving between several different ones? Model this process verbally for the whole class, in real time. You do not need to be able to identify the insects or the flowers – just say what you see. For example: “This bee is black and yellow. It’s fuzzy and kind of round. I think it has six legs. It flew up to a flower and landed, and then the flower bent over. Now it’s walking around on the flower. Now it flew just for a second and landed on the same flower. The flower is yellow. One of the bee’s wings is torn.” Let this stream-of-consciousness observing inform what you put on your board. If you say the bee is round, be sure to draw a round shape, not an oval shape, and include the number of legs you saw, not a random number. If you say the bee is yellow and black, use arrows and the labels “yellow” and “black” to show which parts are what color on your drawing. If you say the flower bent over, show the shape the stem made when it bent over.

Invite or direct students to pair up. Explain that each pair should look for their own bee, and then they will watch the bee together. They will share their observations out loud to each other in real time, and then each student will record their observations in their own journal. If bees are scarce, widen the search to include any insect or spider. Remind students of their strategies to stay safe around bees before sending them to search.

Give students 5-15 minutes to complete their observing and journaling. Circulate and support students by asking them to share their observations out loud, and then remind them to use words, pictures, and numbers on the page. Be sure to point out and thank students for calm behavior.

Conclusion: 5-10 minutes

After calling the group back together, invite students to write down at least one question they have about their observations. Questions can start with “I wonder…” or with question words like when, where, how, or why. Invite students to share about their observations and questions: “What did you notice or wonder about the bees and flowers?” Let students know that by observing the bees and asking questions, they are now all entomologists, or bug scientists – because that’s what scientists do, they notice things in the world around them and then they get curious!

Then, invite students to share about their experience more generally: “What did you notice about the process of watching the bees?” If the conversation is slow, ask more pointed questions: “Did anyone notice more details the longer you watched your bee?” or “Was anyone afraid at first, but felt more comfortable as the activity went on?”

Wrap up by inviting students to check back in with their mind and body, and to make an updated note about how they are feeling using feelings words, emojis, or a body battery. Celebrate with the group that they tried something that was difficult or scary for many of them and reiterate that it’s very brave to try to understand something that scares you.

Bee Regenerative’s “Bee Hopeful” program teaches kids, in a positive and engaging way, why our bees are essential to everyday life and how the kids can be bee heroes - working to conserve the things they love. Learn more at www.beeregenerative.org

Shabazz Larkin made his picture book illustration debut with Farmer Will Allen and the Growing Table, followed by his author/illustrator debut with A Moose Boosh: A Few Choice Words About Food, both named American Library Association Notable Children’s Books. He is a multi-disciplinary artist and an advertising creative director. He lives in Nashville, Tennessee, with his wife and two sons. Explore his work at SHABAZZLARKIN.COM

Readers to Eaters promotes food literacy through stories about our diverse food cultures, and partners with teachers, librarians and food system educators. Learn more and explore their other books at www.readerstoeaters.com

This curriculum project is supported by SAVE the BEE, a non-profit on a mission to help bees and humans thrive. Learn about their work at savethebee.org

The Thing About Bees Curriculum with Nature Journaling Extension © 2025 by Bee Regenerative is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0. To view a copy of this license, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/

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“Picture it… Alaska… 2002… a beautiful young woman has a dream! An idea! A desire! A vision! To bring women together in the outdoors to challenge themselves physically and emotionally, meet their growth edges in a supportive community of peers, and bring back the nutrients they absorbed in retreat …

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On Monday morning at 3am I Googled, “Can 35 mpr wind gusts blow over a camper van?”

Bully for me – the answer was no.

Even though it sure felt like it.

Midgie and I were camped on Antelope Island, the largest of ten islands in Utah’s Great Salt Lake. Covering 42 square miles, it is located just north of Salt Lake City and is famous for its iconic (and lege…

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Five vineyards joined us: Cole Family Vineyards, Troon Vineyard, Weisinger’s Family Vineyard, Upper Five Vineyard, and Sound and Vision Wine Co. We were joined by Mimi Casteel of Hope Well Wine, who delivered a keynote on regenerative viticulture and soil health that set the tone for the day. We were nourished beautifully by a lunch by Jefferson Farm Kitchen. And our newest Bee Regenerative board member, Rhianna Sims, gave a blessing before the meal that I’ll be carrying with me for a long time — a naming of the farmers and hands behind the food we were about to share.

We spent the morning in conversation and the afternoon on the ground, walking three Southern Oregon vineyards and watching three different approaches to land stewardship play out in real time. The conversation that closed the day, around a small circle at Sound and Vision, gave me more material to think about than I can fit into a newsletter. But here is the headline: every single vineyard in the room committed to a concrete next step — a formal partnership, a new flowering trial, a habitat plan for an expanding vineyard, a planning session to build out the year. Five-for-five.

That is not a small thing. The wine industry is going through the hardest stretch most of us have ever seen. The demands on small vineyard operations are enormous, and the margins are tightening. And yet these growers, every one of them, said yes to doing more for bees, for biodiversity, for the long arc of the land. That is what hope looks like.

It is also, I think, what BFV’s next chapter looks like. The conversation revealed three through-lines I’m carrying forward: economics (broadly defined — kinship with land is also a kind of economic value), community (which Southern Oregon’s regenerative growers are hungry for and which BFV is positioned to host), and capacity (the design principle that the work we ask of growers has to add to their lives and operations, not subtract). I’ll be writing more about each of these as the year unfolds.

For now: huge thanks to our funders — The Bee Regenerative Donors, Autzen Foundation, One Hive Foundation, and Jackson Soil and Water Conservation District — for making the day possible. To our vineyard hosts. To the Selberg Institute for the kitchen and classroom. To Mimi. To Rhianna. To everyone who came. This is what refugia looks like, in early form: vineyards becoming places where bees come not to die, but to heal.

Roots and Wings 2027 is already taking shape. More soon.

— Sarah

There is a moment, just before sunrise, when the world holds its breath.
The bees are still nestled away. The grass is cold underfoot. And if you’re paying attention — really paying attention — you can feel it: the hum of something larger than yourself.

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Hi. I’m Sarah Red-Laird, founder and director of Bee Regenerative. I’m a scientist, a conservationist, and a woman who has built her life around a simple but radical act: paying attention to small things in big landscapes.

For over a decade I’ve been studying bees on working agricultural lands across the American West — ranches, vineyards, prairies, and high desert basins — traveling with my little blue heeler, Midgie, in a mobile van laboratory that doubles as home, office, and field headquarters.

The science matters deeply to me. But so does something harder to measure: reciprocity. The understanding, rooted in Indigenous wisdom and lived experience, that we are not separate from the land we study. That every sunrise is a clean slate. That every bumble bee is a relative worthy of reverence.

Sarah’s Field Notes is where I write from that place — the space between data and wonder, between rigorous fieldwork and the kind of knowing that lives in your chest when you sit on the hot dirt and realize a community has just formed between you, nearly 1,200 bison rumbling by, the nearby cottonwood trees, the sunflowers, and the bees.

It’s field notes and musings. Personal essays and mind wanderings. The unfiltered, unpolished, deeply felt life of someone who has chosen to live close to the land and close to the work.

• Access to public essays on native bees, regenerative agriculture, & the lands where science meets story

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Everything above, plus

• A personal voice memo from Sarah during field season; behind-the-scenes audio dispatch from the field

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A little note before you go —

I’d love to get to know you better. If you have two minutes, I’d be so grateful if you answered a few quick questions. It helps me write for the people actually reading this. Thank you so much for being here. Your answers genuinely shape what I write. — Sarah 🐝

New Reader Survey

I’m Sarah Red-Laird, founder and director of Bee Regenerative. I’m a scientist, a conservationist, and a woman who has built her life around a simple but radical act: paying attention to small things in big landscapes.

For over a decade I’ve been studying bees on working agricultural lands across the American West — ranches, vineyards, prairies, and high desert basins — traveling with my little blue heeler, Midgie, in a mobile van laboratory that doubles as home, office, and field headquarters.

The science matters deeply to me. But so does something harder to measure: reciprocity. The understanding, rooted in Indigenous wisdom and lived experience, that we are not separate from the land we study. That every sunrise is a clean slate. That every bumble bee is a relative worthy of reverence.

This Substack is where I write from that place — the space between data and wonder, between rigorous fieldwork and the kind of knowing that lives in your chest when you sit on the hot dirt and realize a community has just formed between you, nearly 1,200 bison rumbling by, the nearby cottonwood trees, the sunflowers, and the bees.

It’s field notes and musings. Personal essays and mind wanderings. The unfiltered, unpolished, deeply felt life of someone who has chosen to live close to the land and close to the work.

Subscribe now

New Reader Survey

A little note before you go —

I’d love to get to know you better. If you have two minutes, I’d be so grateful if you answered a few quick questions. It helps me write for the people actually reading this.

New Reader Survey

Thank you so much for being here. Your answers genuinely shape what I write. — Sarah 🐝

They are SO WRONG.

Here are my top 10 favorite things from a week spent with the coolest, kindest, most fashion-forward bug nerds on the planet:

1. The FASHION 🐛✨

Listen. I thought I was going to a science conference. What I actually attended was apparently New York Fashion Week: Insect Edition.

Repeating beetle patterns on button-up shirts. Skirts COVERED in marching ants. Blouses featuring entire bee colonies. Earrings shaped like katydids. Socks with anatomically correct insect illustrations. One person wore pants with a giant praying mantis printed across both legs.

It was high fashion. It was bold. It was unapologetic.

I have never felt so under-dressed in my life, and I loved every second of it. Note to self: step up the bug-patterned wardrobe game for next year.

2. The DRAG SHOW (That I Tragically Missed) 🦋🎭

Okay, so apparently there was a drag show where entomologists dressed as the insects they study.

IT SOLD OUT IMMEDIATELY.

I did not get tickets.

From what I heard, it was completely unhinged, absolutely spectacular, and exactly what you’d hope for when scientists who spend their lives studying bugs get to perform as those bugs.

There were allegedly moth queens. Beetle divas. A very committed molting crane fly performance.

Next year, I’m camping out for tickets. This is not a drill. If you’re reading this and you were there, please send photos. I need to live vicariously.

3. How Ridiculously KIND Everyone Was 💛

Here’s the thing nobody tells you about academia: it has a reputation for being cutthroat, competitive, and full of people guarding their research like dragons hoarding gold.

The entomology community did not get that memo.

Everyone I met was warm, supportive, genuinely excited to hear about each other’s work, and eager to help. People swapped contacts, offered to share data, introduced me to collaborators, and celebrated each other’s successes.

It felt like... community. Like we were all in this together—figuring out how to save pollinators, understand ecosystems, and make the world a little better, one bee at a time.

Growing up, I had a very different impression of what academia would be like. Being a field biologist working outside traditional academic structures, I wasn’t sure I’d be welcomed. But everyone—from grad students to tenured professors—made me feel like I belonged.

And honestly? That means everything.

4. The Undergraduate Students Who Thought I Was Cool 🤓

I gave a talk on our Bison & Bee Habitat Project (more on that response in a minute), and afterwards, my friend Rachel—who now runs her own lab—came up to say hi. She had a little squad of undergraduate students with her.

One of them looked at her, eyes wide, and whispered: “Oh my god. You KNOW her?”

Reader, I blushed.

It was such a gift to talk with those students and show them that you can be a scientist, study insects, do field research, and make an impact without following the traditional academic path. You don’t need a tenure-track position to contribute to science. You don’t need a PhD to matter in this field.

(Though if you want those things, go for it! No shade to academia—just saying there are multiple roads to the same destination.)

Seeing those students’ faces light up when they realized there were different ways to build a career in entomology? That’s the stuff that fuels me for months.

5. The Collaboration Conversations 🤝

I had SO many conversations with other entomologists studying pollinators in grassland ecosystems, bees on grazed lands, and the intersection of livestock and native insects.

And the vibe wasn’t “I’m going to protect my research ideas.” It was “OH MY GOD, you’re working on this too?! How can we help each other?”

People wanted to share data. Compare methodologies. Talk about co-authoring papers. Brainstorm grant applications together.

The collaborative energy was chef’s kiss.

If you’re a rancher reading this and wondering whether scientists actually care about making their research practical and applicable to working lands—YES. Yes, they do. And they’re hungry for partnerships with people like you.

6. Seeing Old Friends Who Are Still Bee Obsessed 🐝

I got to catch up with friends I’ve known for over a decade—people I met back when we were all just getting started in beekeeping and honeybee research.

And here’s what’s wild: Most of us have morphed our careers to focus not just on honeybees, but on native bees too. We’ve all expanded our scope, deepened our questions, and stayed committed to this work.

There’s something beautiful about growing alongside people—watching each other’s careers evolve, celebrating milestones, commiserating over funding challenges, and still getting genuinely giddy talking about bees after all these years.

These friendships are one of the greatest gifts of this work.

7. The Fascinating (and Complicated) World of Nonlethal Bee Sampling 🔬

Okay, this one’s a little nerdy, but stick with me.

There’s growing interest in studying bees without killing them. Which sounds great in theory! Who doesn’t want a catch-and-release model for bee research?

But it turns out it’s really, really complicated.

Some researchers are experimenting with:

• eDNA (collecting genetic material from flowers or nests)

• Catch-and-release with photo ID (take detailed photos, then let them go)

• Clipping tiny bits (a toe, piece of antenna, wing edge) for DNA analysis

But here’s the problem:

• DNA databases for bees are incomplete, so you can’t always ID species from genetic material alone

• If you trap and release a bee, she might get disoriented and not make it back to her nest

• If you clip part of a bee, it might suffer or die anyway

• We don’t have standardized protocols yet, so comparing data across studies is hard

The jury is still out. But I’m glad we’re having these conversations, thinking critically about ethics, and working toward more humane methods.

Science is a process. We’re figuring it out together.

8. The Complete Lack of Gatekeeping 🚪❌

I didn’t encounter a single glass ceiling.

Not one person made me feel like I didn’t belong because I’m not affiliated with a university. Not one person dismissed my work because it’s happening on working ranches instead of research stations.

Instead, I got:

• USDA scientists offering to collaborate

• Academics excited to cite our findings

• Graduate students asking about our methods, especially the social science aspect of our work

• Professors inviting me to guest lecture or asking if their students could meet me in the field

The vibe was: “We’re all trying to understand bees and ecosystems. Let’s share what we know and make each other’s work better.”

That openness? That generosity? That makes my little nerd heart SO HAPPY.

9. Validation That This Work MATTERS ✅

Here’s a secret fear I carry: What if I’m just doing this work because I love it, but it doesn’t actually matter to anyone else?

What if I’m chasing bees across the West, living in a campervan, spending 11,590 miles a year on dirt roads... just because it’s my dream, not because the world actually needs it?

But being at this conference—hearing other researchers reference similar questions, getting feedback from scientists whose work I admire, seeing presentations that align with what we’re discovering—I realized:

This work is needed.

The questions Bee Regenerative is answering matter to the scientific community. They matter to agriculture. They matter to policymakers. They matter to anyone who cares about food security, functioning ecosystems, and thriving landscapes.

What we’re learning about bison and bees, grazing management and pollinator diversity, working lands as refugia—it’s not just my passion project. It’s contributing to a body of knowledge that will shape conservation and agriculture for decades.

That reassurance? I needed it more than I realized.

10. Gratitude for Our Ranching Partners 🤠

I had several conversations with other entomologists who are trying—really trying—to build relationships with ranchers and farmers for research partnerships.

And it’s HARD.

Getting access to land, building trust, navigating different vocabularies and priorities, finding common ground between conservation science and agricultural economics—it takes years.

Which made me realize (again) how incredibly lucky we are.

Our partners—the Anderson family ranches, North Bridger Bison, Dakota Partnership Ranch, American Prairie, our vineyard collaborators—they don’t just tolerate our research. They’re genuinely invested. They ask questions. They adjust management based on what we’re learning. They invite us into their operations and their lives.

That kind of partnership is rare. It’s precious. And it’s the reason we can do this work at all.

So if you’re one of our ranching or vineyard partners reading this: Thank you. You make the science possible. You make the impact real. And you remind me every day that conservation doesn’t happen in a vacuum—it happens in relationship.

The Takeaway

The Entomological Society of America meeting reminded me why I love this work.

It’s not just about the bees (though they’re pretty great). It’s about the people—the curious, kind, fashion-forward, drag-show-attending, collaboration-loving, gatekeeping-hating community of humans who have dedicated their lives to understanding the smallest creatures on the planet.

And somehow, miraculously, I get to be part of that community.

See you next year, bug nerds. I’ll be the one in head-to-toe bee patterns, holding tickets to the drag show. 🐝✨

P.S. If you were at ESA and we crossed paths—thank you for the conversations, the encouragement, and the inspiration. If we didn’t get to connect, find me next year. I’ll be easy to spot: I’ll finally have upgraded my insect fashion game.

P.P.S. Seriously, if anyone has photos from the drag show, my DMs are open. I need to see this.

I just so happen to be lucky enough to be friends with Red Ants Pants founder (and total badass), Sarah Calhoun, who owns the Ringling Mansion, where this apartment is nestled in; and she was kind enough to let me stay here for a few days to wind down after the close of my field season.

I haven’t been afforded this grace period before. Upon catching my last bee and counting my last flower the last few years, I’ve thrown my bee net in the van, then gunned it for Southern Oregon to get right back to work on our vineyard projects and to fulfill friend and family commitments.

This year, there are no such commitments and I’ve handed over the brunt of vineyard work to our vineyard partners and volunteers.

So the last few days for me have been of ease, reflection, nourishment, and hours upon hours of data entry!!

It’s been quite the transition from living in a tiny van, spending 90% of my day outside, and having all the room in the world to roam. But I have nothing but gratitude for being here, now.

Today is the autumn equinox and I just returned from a sunset dog walk with Sarah. The air is crisp, the leaves and grass are varying shades of magenta, plum, orange, and gold, and the north fork of the Smith River is clear and fresh.

One of my favorite Mary Oliver poems comes to mind —

The dream of my life

Is to lie down by a slow river

And stare at the light in the trees—

To learn something by being nothing

A little while…

Living in community with dogs, buffalo, and bees is easy. I know what they want and how they feel, always.

If a bee doesn’t like what you’re up to - they buzz low in their thorax, if they really don’t like it - they sting!

Midgie is a master communicator. If she needs something, she stands on her toes, launches her ears forward, and makes very intense eye contact with me. She knows exactly what, “What do you need? Show me!” means. When I utter these words, she bolts for the answer and touches it with her paw - or stares at it. E.g. the cupboard holding food and treats, the side-by-side if she’s board and wants to get to work, a folded blanket if she wants to snuggle, the shelf with her stuffies if she wants to play, and if we’re at a place without a water bowl, she’ll point to the toilet or the shower if she’s thirsty.

Buffalo are also master communicators. You know exactly how they feel by what they are doing with their head and tail. Except for 440, she’s a bit of a puzzle. In the video, I’ll explain what 140,000 pounds of buffalo told me - from a few feet away.

I’m feeling more than a tad of apprehension, going back to life among humans later this week. I find most people confusing, and wish we could all be more clear in our needs and wants. There is a simplicity and a clarity that exists out here, and I’m really going to miss it.

And as promised (in the video) here are videos of bison jumping fences: here, here, here, and here.

A time was had on Saturday! I spent twelve whole hours peopling for the annual Farm to Crag Bozeman event last weekend. And seeing how my peopling average during field season is zero, that was a lot. But it was lovely!

The day kicked off with one group going to a nearby climbing spot and a another group taking a bike ride through town to learn about the agricultural history of Bozeman. My climbing gear is in storage, so I opted for the ride. I learned a ton; It was an absolute delight, and I met a couple of new friends to gravel ride with.

After lunch a few climbers and riders headed to Chance Farm to do a little volunteer work. I grabbed a coffee, finished pinning up my last batch of bees from the Dakota Partnership Ranch, then jetted to the farm to set up a Bee Regenerative education station.

I nestled up next to the epic tasting table, overflowing with local bites and Patagonia Provisions snacks. The event was sold out, and there was a steady stream of bee-curios attendees that were excited to come chat.

I had a couple of boxes of bees that I had collected from Jar Bar L Ranch in Centennial Valley, MT, Anderson Pope Ranch and Grizzly Creek Ranches in Tom Miner Basin, MT, North Bridger Bison in Shields Valley, MT, and the Dakota Partnership Ranch in South Dakota. Folks were wowed by the size and color variation of these bees, all of the different ways they carry pollen on their body, and the fact that there are so much more than honey bees and bumble bees here in Montana.

I have been hoarding donations of honey over the last couple of months and was able to share an impressive variety of honey colors and flavors from upstate New York, the foothills of the California Sierras, the marshes of Georgia and South Carolina, multiple locations in Montana, and (of course) Bee Girl Honey from the Siskiyou Mountains in Southern Oregon. Thank you - Savannah Bee Co., Hindu Hillbilly Honey, and Mohawk Trading Co., for your generosity!! It was great fun to guide tasters through this little culinary adventure, while leading them to think about agriculture, forests, meadows, climate, and bee conservation.

Following a local farm-focused and abundant dinner, six panelists (including yours truly) walked the guests through our areas of expertise and pitched a “problem statement.” Guests then organized themselves at the six tables and we got to work.

Here is the breakdown of our groups and their leaders –

· Bee Regenerative - Sarah Red-Laird, beekeeping, native bee research, science and conservation communication. “Are the bees OK? Why or why not? Do you feel you can be a part of the solution in their survival?”

· Chance Farm - Josh Chance, first gen market vegetable operation and land access. “Why do/don’t you buy local? What barriers prevent you from buying local?”

· Abundant MT - Sammie McGowan, 33 x 33 for Montana Initiative and consumer behavior. “Why don’t you buy local? What barriers prevent you from buying local?”

· Montana Farmers Union - Samantha Ferrat, advocacy, policy and community engagement. “Identifying the roles of advocacy, policy & community engagement to move people from ‘this is how it’s always been’ to ‘what it could be’ through the lens of local food systems.”

· Indigenous leader Latrice Tatsey - relationship based management, food sovereignty, food security, USDA. “Enough local food isn’t growing for me to purchase from producers who grow locally on the Blackfeet Nation”

· Food distribution - Wyatt Nelson of MT Local Food Distribution- the missing middle and affordability. “As new farmers’ access to land gets pushed further and further from city centers, how do we ensure distribution of their products in a state as large as Montana stays affordable?”

As you can imagine, the conversations were deep, meaningful and briming with ideas generated by heart-centered people who love the outdoors and stive to be part of the solution in Montana’s local and regenerative food future.

The end of the day was a blur for me – so I can’t quite recap the solutions that were built with the other leaders but am happy to recount ours.

We first answered the question, “Are the bees OK?” This is an existential question with a complex answer, but from a sky high view the answer is, “No.”

So we then defined the problem in a granular way – “Why?” I coached them through the “4 p’s” (they nailed them all with some hints): Pesticides, Pests, Pathogens, Poor Nutrition.

I left it to the group to work in pairs, then in small groups, then as a whole to come up with solutions to the problems.

I spend my summer so nose-down in the complexity of rigorous data collection, ranching, climate change, and human dynamics – that I forget that solutions can be simple and joy-filled. My group did a wonderful job re-grounding me in the “fun” of community-based bee conservation.

Our idea is to pitch an official city-wide campaign for “Now Mow May” and “Let the Leaves Lay” in the spring and fall. This will support pollinator habitat through nutrition and shelter, creating less-stressed, healthier individuals and colonies that will have a better chance at surviving the effects of pests and pesticides. We had two folks that have connections to the City of Bozeman volunteer to make a pitch to city staffers, and the whole table pledged to send messages to the city in support of kicking off an official campaign.

Right over the hill - the town of Livingston has organized a very successful, “Livingston Loves Bees” campaign – so there is already a great model for how to get started.

Early on in 2025 I made an intention to come out of the hills here and there and integrate myself more into the communities I work in here in Montana and South Dakota. I’ve had multiple opportunities to connect this year, and I’m grateful for every one of them! This event was truly special, and it was an honor to be included to share my passion for bees, local food systems, and regenerative agriculture.

I have four hectares left, and then my field work for the 2025 season at the Dakota Partnership Ranch is done.

There’s a deep sinking in my heart each time I leave. While here, I live in a land before time. I’m on bee time and buffalo time, which is sunrise and sunset, wind speed and temperature time.

Our lives are dictated by the elements and the light.

This morning we woke at 5:15am with a yipping coyote greeting the magenta hue on the skyline. The long sunrise was a spectacular show of hazy orange from the still air filled with dust from the wallowing buffalo. Then a soft yellow-green as the buffs traveled and the morning rays caught the wings of would-be fairies dancing outside my window.

I caught some of the show on camera, please enjoy and thank you for your support!

I’ve been thinking a lot about connection since last week, and my mindset around isolation and loneliness. …

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The Seven Buffalo Bulls Become the Big Dipper: Part I

The Seven Buffalo Bulls Become the Big Dipper, Part II

While at a dinner the other night, I picked up the book, “Bison: Portrait of an Icon“ by Audrey Hall. I can’t wait to get my own copy one day and spend more time with it. This story, retold by Henry Real Bird, Upsauloeka (Crow) poet, has stayed with me and I wanted to share it with you.

For a deeper dive into Henry Real Bird’s work -

Across Montana On Horseback, Poet Hands Out Poetry: https://www.npr.org/2010/07/30/128877656/across-montana-on-horseback-poet-hands-out-poetry

Poet Henry Real Bird Rides the Last Stanza of His Trek Across Montana: http://westernfolklifecenter.files.wordpress.com/2010/07/henryrides_3.mp3

Cowboy Crossroads Ep. 57:

Expressing Montana - “Robin” by Henry Real Bird:

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Whirlwind is an understatement. In less than a fortnight back in Ashland we did honey harvest, got honey our back on shelves, I ran two fundraisers, and moved all of my personal things from one apartment and two storage lockers into one storage locker (with some hefty loads going to Goodwill and my local consignment shops). I also fit in a slew of medical appointments and a whole day off (the 4th of July!!). Ashland is hands-down my favorite place to celebrate the 4th, we have a banger of a parade followed by a whole day of pool parties, live music, and general small town wholesome cheer and togetherness.

There was no update last Monday, as I was elbows-deep in moving boxes and had negative zero time to sit down for even a moment.

That is until the evening when I tried to treat myself to an Ashland Folk Collective concert at Fry Family Farm. Just as the opener was finishing up a black wall of weather swept through the Rogue Valley. The sky went from high blue to low dark purple, filled with white lightning. One of the organizers calmly made her way to our blanket and suggested that we go sit in the car as Ashland (15 miles to the south) was currently being hammered with torrential rain, wind, and lightning and the storm was moving fast. I concurrently received a warning on my phone for quarter-sized hail. We packed up, and went to the car to wait out the storm.

Unfortunately, the wind and lightning knocked out power to 30,000 households and businesses and FFF was among them. No power = no music. Bummer.

The storm started dozens of wildfires around Southern Oregon.

One was on a property that my bees are currently on (though it was about 7 miles away). Another about two miles from one of our vineyard partners (where I’m storing our bee truck while I’m away for the remainder of field season).

Though our fire crews throughout the west are woefully understaffed due to DOGE cuts, our local guys and gals got right after it and have been giving it all they have to keep our towns safe since July 7th.

Over the weekend I had the great good fortune to time my road trip back to Montana with the National Bison Association Summer Conference for the “Western Region” in Enterprise, Oregon, at the Stangel Bison Ranch. I loved seeing this dynamic father-daughter duo (Theresa and Bob Stangel) work together to regeneratively manage their herd of 500 bison on 6,800 acres in the foothills of the Eagle Cap Wilderness. This family has been committed to ranching for the conservation of grasslands before it was cool. They bought their first bison in 1979 and sold their last cow in 1987.

Wide open spaces that are properly managed for biodiversity and biological health are one of the best solutions that we have for climate change. I’m so glad I was able to transition from crises mode in Southern Oregon, to solution mode in Northeastern Oregon overnight; to see with my eyes and feel with my feet the beauty of healed ground full of sequestered carbon, thanks to good management and our national animal.

As a write this I’m sitting on the hot, hot side of Hwy 52 in Idaho, en route to J Bar L Ranch to meet with my Montana people where I get to actively be a part of the solution to our looming climate and biodiversity crises - thanks to your support! We couldn’t do this work without you!

This spring we had that dreamy scenario of sunny, warm weather, a good snowpack that melted slowly, and some lovely spring rains. This combination produced a beautiful super bloom of native flowers and a purple sea of vetch at the Sampson Creek Preserve.

I also have been working hard to build solid bee health through managing nutrition and controlling disease and pests such as Varroa mites. Our bees came out of the winter strong (I only lost one hive) and me and the bees were able to work together to capitalize on the epic nectar flow!

I set them up for success before I left for Montana and South Dakota, and returned to 10 supers of capped honey.

Honey harvest started on Thursday, just hours after I got home, and is just finishing up today. Ginelle is in the honey house bottling while I catch up on admin work, and we’ll be doing deliveries over the next couple of days. So keep your eyes peeled for spring honey to pop up on these shelves soon!

If you’re in Southern Oregon, I’d love to see you this Thursday at the Phoodery. I’ll be there from 5-9, click here for more information on our event, and stop by for a hug and a hello!

but why you’re here.”

Sterling Drake

Old Salt Festival is a food & music celebration of Montana land stewardship that takes place over summer solstice weekend at the Mannix Family Ranch in Helmville, Montana, in the iconic Blackfoot Valley.

This was my third year at the festival. The first year I came to see the keynote by one of my favorite authors, David James Duncan. The second year I was able to serve as a panelist, discussing the importance of ranching with wildlife. This year, all the stars lined up and I was able to bring Bee Regenerative’s co-director, Ginelle, along with me to meet our ranching partners and to get a good dose of what it’s like to camp on the plains and prairies of the American West, and saddle up among some of the warmest hearts and brightest minds in agriculture today.

It snowed in the hills and the winds and rain were nothing short of relentless, but the “Old Salt” vibe was high and good times were had.

As a supporter of our work, I’m so happy to bring you along and share a few of my personal highlights. The videos below will give you a clear sense of who I’m working with, the ethics that guide them, and the values we share.

It’s an honor and a privilege to be invited onto J bar L to collaborate with Andrew and Hilary and their family through research, art, and education. And it’s my honor to invite you into the tent to get a taste of Old Salt.

Learn more about the Old Salt Festival here, J Bar L Ranch here, and the Old Salt Co-op here.

Mountain and Prairie podcast host Ed Roberson sat down with Old Salt Fest Founder, Cole Mannix, and Old Salt Co-op Co-Founder, Andrew Anderson, to talk about the “why” behind the festival.

Andrew and Cole talk about what problem the founders of "Old Salt Co-op" were trying to solve by forming their new project.

Cate Havestad, Oregon Rancher and Founder of Range Revolution, facilitated the "Land is Kin" panel, featuring Bee Regenerative partners Andrew and Hilary of J Bar L. Watch for a few words on their personal histories and how that influenced their current ranching philosophy.

Bee Regenerative partners Andrew and Hilary discuss their philosophies regarding ranching as part of an ecological web, as opposed to having dominion over the landscape.

Roses and Thorns

When I was in fourth grade my dad said to me, “There is no in-between with you! You’re either way up here, or way down there.” When I was in eleventh grade he said, “Why do you always have to burn the candle at twelve ends?” Spoken in an accusatory tone.

Welp – I’m happy to report that I am still me, after all these years. And I’ve fou…

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