Category Archives: Explorer’s Journal
Friends! I hope you have enjoyed Explorer’s Journal so far… there is a lot more from where that came! We have traveled now well over 6,000 km, met with hundreds of people, nearly 50 beekeepers spread across four countries, and now we are rushing against the clock to write-up new material to share about our epic quest in magazines and journals around the world…
But we need some help.
Do you speak Georgian, Turkish, Russian, Armenian, or Azeri? As we sift through all of our materials: thousands of photos, hours of interview, and stacks of notes, we know we can’t tackle this all on our own.
Would you be willing to do 30 – 60 minutes of loose translation for some of our footage? If so, we will publicly thank you and send you some of our printed photographs. You will also get to have a sneak peek into all of the work we have been doing over these last eight months.
If interested, send a message to inspiredbeeing (at) gmail.com. We would love to hear from you, and thank you for your support!
Phrase from Field: For the first time in years, we are finally at the highest point on the horizon, where conversations are at once of mighty proportions, between the great peaks of the south and the towering crests of the north Caucasus, between the shores of the clouds and the hour-glass manipulations of the sun; they are also small, a spooked mountain chicken squawking behind a rock, the shocked and silent cries of flowers who grow this high to escape the treads of man-kind, only to fall beneath feet on a rare day of sun.
Phrase from Field: The 14′th Annual Macahel Honey Festival lacks its regular enthusiasm as bureaucracy, speeches, and road-blocking clouds close in on the rings of dancers, the lip smacking children, and the stacks of honey priced high, declaring a new kind of future for the ancient biosphere.
Explorer’s Journal: Dropping 2,700 Meters, Nine Hours, Downhill, Through ‘Nam. And You Better Leave the Forest By Six.
Phrase from Field: Eager hands direct us to thick scratchy rhododendron bushes, promising a fast route down the 2,700 meter drop through the Macaheli cloud forest maze, mentioning little of waterfalls, river crossings, or the labyrinth of towering trees and their karakovan hives, beacons of history reminding us of the final words of mountain villagers, “Make sure you leave the forest by six.”
Phrase from Field: Slouching against mountain wool-stuffed pillows, a man donning a track suit and perfectly trained British English recounts how a life of survival and fickle weather patterns in the yaylas has prepared him for survival in the cut-throat corruption of Batumi oil ports and the tyrannical nepotism of politics. Read the rest of this entry