That all familiar odor. When the foulbrood comes, the hive is inevitably lost. That is known to all beekeepers. It is a bloating fungus, bursting from the larvae, spreading its poison throughout the colony, until it claims it all, and then it, still hungry, still always searching, demands the air grant it a new home. Yes, the rank and rotting smell, the sticky and stringy, the grotesque collapse that will come, the thousands of furry bodies rolling and lolling in …
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