The hives are quiet in a way that makes me check twice

Thursdays used to mean moving frames and arguing with the smoker; now it's just standing by the hives, listening to nothing, and wondering if I'm keeping bees or they're keeping me. The varroa boards are clean, which should be good news, and yet I keep going out to look again. Maybe it's the season, maybe it's me, but the silence feels like a question I'm not ready to answer.