You don’t dance on a bee hive and sprint headlong into the house chased by a swarm of angry bees without developing a healthy respect for the sanctity of apidae habitat.  I didn’t mean to dance on the hive; I was only four years old and I had no idea it was even there until eighteen million bees erupted out of what I had thought was an innocuous stone-ringed mound of dirt.  The fact that such a small earthen bump could house that many insects is a testament to the …