I feel that the Bee Hive is really pretty sweet in every season…

Fall: The season most abundant with new books – released in anticipation for the holiday season. And, a front yard blanketed in leaves.

Winter: After the awesome frenzy of the holidays – quiet, for sure. But, I always love the après-snow crowd. Hearing the reports of cold adventures while kids grab books to enjoy their well-deserved rest by.

Spring: Locals stocking up to leave town on Break. And, waves of visitors who come into town, from pretty much every state, all throughout March and April. (Always such a relief after sleepy January and February)

Summer: How to even begin with Summer?

Weekly story times that pack the house.

Visitors – many who come to Santa Fe, and the Bee Hive, yearly. They appreciate the store so much, and wait to stock up on their summer reading for their visit – often buying piles of books. I really really love that – I appreciate their appreciation so much.

Rosé, strawberry, and chocolate fueled monthly Book Club for Grown Ups. So many smart, hilarious, thoughtful discussions. All year round, but especially lovely on a summer evening.

Creative Writing Workshops. Total Magic. Two or three weeks a year, the Bee Hive is transformed into a house of inspiration. Joyful creation abounds. Beautiful hey-you-are-my-people bonding. Kids sprawled in the front yard; around the drawing table; on the floor in the Young Adult room. Just – absorbed in making stories. A special experience, every time. To be surrounded by energy of a newly-found creative outlet. It is intoxicating.

Ok – so, I really don’t want to do that thing where this is – The Before (the Apocalypse). And – After…

But.

I can’t let this summer go by without documenting the contrast. The contrast of past and future summers – and, the summer of 2020.

“It is a different kind of summer, for sure.”

In this moment, there are times that Guadalupe Street is so quiet – say, on a Wednesday in July at 11:00 – that I have actually considered doing cartwheels across the street. Just because…I can.

Rather then welcoming tourists with open arms into the store – I am extremely wary of people from out of town who I don’t know. Even though the Bee Hive definitely needs their business, I have – in fact – turned more then a few away when they have wanted to come in.

The Bee Hive’s sales have been about 80% online. Instead of hosting events or selling books in person – the store has mostly gone virtual.

My connection with customers is usually through email and hand-written notes that I put in the bags of books to be picked up. Most often, with no-contact.

Usually, during the summer, the store is open 7 days a week – all day. Lately, because it is so quiet; and, I feel it is best to not be completely open; and, because, honestly, my own kids, like everyone else’s, have no other plans – so they are with me. And, though they love being at the Bee Hive, I feel the need to get them outside as much as I can. Or, at least, to a Monopoly game. It may not be the best business model, but Olive and Cash are…my priority. So, the store for the first time ever – is only open three hours a day – five days a week.

No Creative Writing Workshops.

The Book Club is via Zoom (I still drink Rosé. And eat chocolate).

But.

I also watch every day, as the awesome folks at PakMail, across the street, bring mail and packages out to their customers’ cars. I feel it has gotta be difficult and exhausting to do what they do all day long. But, they are always cheerful. Always welcome people by name. Always completely professional.

I have seen as my fellow-business owners in the Guadalupe area – all of whom count on the Summer season to make up for October and January and February, etc – open their shops every day. Some days, they see people. Some days – they don’t. But, they are determined. They are hanging on. And showing up. Even though – you could do cartwheels across Guadalupe Street. If you wanted to.

I have watched as Paloma – my beloved neighbor – by locals and visitors, and, myself – has closed; shifted to take-out; opened, then, shut down indoor seating; and haggled with the city to be able to use our shared driveway and the Bee Hive’s front yard to extend their outdoor seating. So, they can cover their expenses, keep their staff on – stay open.

I have had beautiful, difficult, honest conversations with customers – Bee Hive family, really – from 10 feet away – when they have come by to pick up books. Everyone is exhausted. And struggling. Every. Single. Person.

It is a different kind of summer, for sure. And, I don’t know how it will look compared to next summer.

What I do know is, right now…

People are working their butts off. Fighting. Being brave. Restructuring. Getting creative. Doing their best to stay strong, safe, and resilient. Waiting. Mourning. Praying. Connecting. Hoping.

Trying…to see this…

as just another season