Emily Harmon

Cappuccinos in Urbino eight times a day will never be matched in greatness, and the same goes for the reporting experience I gained. I never thought I would stick my face two inches from hundreds of crawling bees, only protected by the camera lens, or video a nun cooking in her convent. Cheers to you Urbino.

Stories by Emily Harmon

  • The bees rush madly, crawling, buzzing among the stacked boxes of faded orange, red, yellow and green stacked spottily in the rolling hills outside this Renaissance city. Fabrizio Pesare dons fluorescent yellow pants, omitting the usual beekeeper’s suit and netted mask, daring to remove the screens of pale, yellow wax brimming with his bees, unprotected from the their stings.

    Beekeepers Feel the Sting of Loss

    By Emily Harmon
    The bees rush madly, crawling, buzzing among the stacked boxes of faded orange, red, yellow and green stacked spottily in the rolling hills outside this Renaissance city. Fabrizio Pesare dons fluorescent yellow pants, omitting the usual beekeeper’s suit and netted mask, daring to remove the screens of pale, yellow wax brimming with his bees, unprotected from the their stings.

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