Interpretative Dance

"Watson, will you be leaving this abode to-day?"

I looked up from my breakfast and gave a rueful smile. "Regretfully, I must be back to London by tonight," I replied. "My wife shall be missing me. I hope I haven't overstayed my welcome?"

Holmes gave a smile. "You, my good doctor? Never."

I glanced at my pocket-watch, rolling up a paper and standing up as I did so. "Nevertheless, I am grateful. I trust you would not mind my bringing Mary along next time I visit?"

"Certainly not; I'd be delighted. Although, be warned: the trains in this part of town will be under repair in the coming months, and I would hate for you to be stranded. Would you be able to tell your way from, oh, say, Haywards Heath? No, you do not? I'll fetch you a map from the other room, you make your way to the entrance - oh, watch that step, yes, that one. Here it is; it shall be a pleasant walk, especially in the summer months. Is Mary fond of maps? No? That's a shame, my good fellow! No matter, I have an absolutely spectacular method for you to tell her. It's splendid, and I dare say that Mary shall enjoy it too. It's simple, Watson; you must dance for her."

Shocked, I stopped in the doorway to Holmes's house. "Dance for her?" I asked, incredulous.

Holmes smiled. "Why of course," he said, launching into an explanation. "Have you never wondered how they - " he gestured to his hives " - communicate directions to the locations of flowers? Watson, good man, you must raise more questions!" He ushered me towards the hives one last time, grabbing veils for us along the way. Quickly, he pulled out a panel from the deeps and perused it before giving a crow of satisfaction and pointing out a bee to me.

"Look here Watson! Here it is: interpretative dance at its finest. Do you see this one here? Yes, this one, the one walking in circles and shaking - she looks she's shivering? Yes. This is called the waggle dance. See, the direction of her walk: that determines the heading according to the sun. And her shivering? That communicates the distance to the flowers; they're really very astute creatures."

"But the sun moves - how would they know if the heading is still correct?"

"Ah, there lies the boundaries of our knowledge. There are theories, but no facts to which to twist them sensibly. They appear to have a miraculous ability to calculate the correct heading, and good thing too, for they rarely take more sustenance than is absolutely required for the trip, and a detour could well kill them."

"My dear Holmes, I cannot believe that you meant for me to do such a dance for Mary."

Holmes chuckled as he replaced the panel and walked me back to the front of the house. "Well, I can't say that I know Mary as well as you, but if your belt is any indication, I think I am not far off in my assumption that she would find it most entertaining. Well, here comes the hansom. Take care, dear friend, and don't be too long in returning."

I almost stopped to ask what he could possibly mean, but the hansom driver looked like an impatient fellow, and I wasn't entirely sure if I wanted to know what deductions he had worked through by observing my belt.

In any case, he had retreated back into his apiary ere I could settle myself fully in the seat, and soon both he and his hives were but specks on the horizon.

- Dr. John H. Watson

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Reading: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Jc-mtUs-eis&feature=player_embedded

1) The 6 wags equalling 300 metres is very interesting. As they explained it, I found myself so fascinated by how quickly and how well the bees are able to communicate the waggle - I couldn't even hope to see how many times the little bum was wagged.
2) Their being able to find their way and compensate for the time between the forager finding the flowers and their communicating it to others is pretty amazing: to be honest, I don't think I'd be able to do that at all. My sense of time is terrible, and their being able to judge time by their biological clock is pretty cool.
3) Taking only enough food/energy for the round trip seems so risky to me: it's a good way for natural selection to weed out the hives with bad navigational abilities though, I suppose.
Question: Why on earth do they sting the forager to death!?
To look for next time: Dancing bees.