Long ago and far away, deep in the Black Locust Forest of the Solvation Mountains, there lived a bee colony that, for thousands of generations, had specialized in the most delectable honey ever known. The nearly immortal black locust trees of this enchanted forest were of singular quality. Their wood was dense, hard as bedrock, beautifully grained, and resistant to weather and insects, and their flowers possessed magical attributes of longevity, health, and vitality.

These rare flowers bloomed only two weeks every year, and the bees' harvesting instincts evolved to exert all their efforts in that two-week window, gathering enormous quantities of pollen and nectar. They made only black locust honey, never visiting the wildflowers or other blooms of the forest, leaving those conventional blossoms to bees of lesser dedication, purpose, and lifespan. The honey's unique qualities and breathtaking flavor nurtured the colony throughout the year, year after year, beyond the memory of the forest itself.

Other animals told tales of this honey and aspired to attain it. Badgers, raccoons, bears, and foxes traveled for weeks from their home habitats to reach the forest's interior and try securing just a driblet of Solvation Mountains black locust honey. It was said that a single taste provided lifelong satisfaction.

The heroic few who could endure the harsh mountain geography of the forest invariably failed to reach the honey. However, the scent alone was enough to convince them of its nobility. The mere aroma of enchanted black locust honey improved their happiness and delivered a contentment envied by all who knew them. They took the tale home and inspired others, but the journey was arduous, and the bees were shrewd. They had secured their hive in a rare haven: the top of a dead locust tree, the oldest in the forest and the first, impossible to ascend without the advantage of flight.

These trees rarely died; it must have been astonishingly ancient. Indeed, the colony had no memory of another location. The towering, limbless trunk was still rock solid. The tree had perished in a fire older than memory, and its bark had burned away, leaving a smooth, fire-hardened surface similar to river-polished slate.

Unknown to the bees, that fire had planted an unseen ember inside their tree, reaching its center through a fire-weakened root. Though the tree was dead, its wood was formidable, and the timeless ember smoldered year after countless years, barely progressing but patiently working its way up the inside of the tree, never making itself known.

They took the tale home and inspired others, but the journey was arduous, and the bees were shrewd.

It was Fate that brought an adventurous bear named Lumina to the Black Locust Forest in the summer of the tree's ultimate disaster. Lumina had heard the stories of the magical honey and traveled far to try her luck at tasting it. When she arrived at the tree, she soon understood the near impossibility of her ambition.

She was enormously skilled at climbing. No tree had evaded her attempt, and her climbing was famous among her brethren. Her claws were long and curved, and her size was small; she climbed trees and cliffs as effortlessly as she walked on meadow clover. But this tree was something different.

Lumina tested the trunk and knew it to be a challenge beyond her experience. She was able to climb a few feet but soon slid back down, her claws failing to maintain anchorage on the hardwood. She circled the tree and was formulating a plan when a bee landed on a nearby leaf. "What do you think you're doing?" it asked.

"Hello, friend bee. I'm figuring out how to climb this tree."

"Why would you do that?"

"Oh, I think you know." Lumina sniffed the air. "I can smell the honey from here. Your honeycomb is high, at the top of this tree, and I have traveled far to sample it. I understand it's the best that has ever existed."

No tree had evaded her attempt, and her climbing was famous among her brethren.

"Yes, there's nothing like it in the wide world if I say so myself. But we never share our honey; it's far too cherished, and it's impossible to reach. Many have tried; none have succeeded."

"Well, I'm particularly motivated and an excellent climber."

"May I suggest looking under the mound of leaves and earth at the base of this tree? Or perhaps it's best left alone. Were you to dig here, you'd find bones. Sadly, they are the bones of those who tried and fell. Most couldn't climb high enough to be killed by the fall, but some did, and others were injured. None reached the top. I have no wish to see you hurt or worse."

"I understand why so many would fail. This tree is very hard, smooth, and tall, but I am not an average climber."

"You seem like a good bear, and I will be saddened when you fall, but you must make your own decisions."

The bee flew away, and Lumina moved on to find a stream where sandstone had eroded on the banks near a waterfall. She sharpened her claws on the sandstone, working diligently through the night until they commanded finely honed points as sharp as obsidian shards, and in the morning, she returned to the tree.

Many have tried; none have succeeded

The bee was waiting for her. "I hope to dissuade you from your climb," it said. "It is not the safety of the hive that concerns me but your well-being. Think of your family. They will not know what happened to you."

"I admit that this will be the most daunting climb of my life, and it is very high, but I'm confident. Please be assured that I won't injure the hive. Your honey is legendary and worthy of honor and respect. My people have told stories of it for generations, and it has frequented my dreams and imagination. I'll be delicate and cause the least damage possible so you can easily make repairs. I desire only a taste, not a feast. "

"Many have been satisfied with the aroma alone. I know you detect it. Is that not enough?"

Lumina sniffed the air. "It's like nothing I've ever encountered. I can sense the flowers in the aroma and the artistry that enlivens it. That only makes me want to achieve this climb even more. But wait..." She sniffed the air again, inhaling slowly and deeply. "Something is wrong. It's very faint and wasn't there a moment ago, but do you smell smoke, friend bee?"

At that moment, as if waiting for the bear's arrival, the ember smoldering within the tree for endless years reached the top, where the tree was weakest. Air pockets in the weathered wood freed the ember to mature into flame, threatening the bee colony. "Oh no," said the bee. "This is impossible." It zipped into the air.

Lumina looked up and saw small licks of flame far, far above. The bees were in grave danger. She leaped onto the tree and found that her newly sharpened claws held, though barely. She climbed, clawing into the trunk with all her skill and strength.

The effort was more than she imagined. She hugged the tree with every muscle and clawed at its sides to keep herself aloft. She slid a couple of times and almost lost her balance, and her exhaustion had nearly found its limit when she finally reached the pinnacle. The top three feet of the tree were hollow, and the fire had burned a ring around the circumference, with the beehive only a couple of feet above it but out of the bear's reach. A cloud of smoke and agitated bees hovered in the air.

I desire only a taste, not a feast.

Lumina dug her hind claws into the tree and reached above the burning ring to grasp the hollow top. She heaved and heaved again. The wood was strong, but the fire had weakened it. She finally pulled the top from the tree and held it against her chest. The fire burned her, and the bees instinctively stung her face, but she could not let go lest the bees lose their home.

She wedged the tree top between her chest and the tree and slid down inch by desperate inch. Her chest was burning, her fur on fire, the anguish unendurable. She held tight nevertheless and inched closer to the ground, but the pain and exertion became overwhelming. Her claws had dulled during the climb and began to slide. She made a final effort to regain control but lost her grip and fell.

She was far from the ground. She knew the fall would be her end and that her bones would soon join the solemn mound of her predecessors below. She held the tree top above her so her body would cushion the fall of the bee colony, hoping it would be enough to spare them.

The top three feet of the tree were hollow, and the fire had burned a ring around the circumference

When she struck the ground, her legs snapped, and pain embraced her in unrelenting waves. All the air forsook her lungs, carrying with it most of her life force. She had just enough spirit left to pull the intact hive from the burning tree top and place it on the ground before her consciousness passed into darkness.

The bees flew around her, realizing Lumina had saved them from the fire. They examined the bear's injuries. Her face was covered in stings, but they were the least of her damages. Her hind legs had crumpled and her chest was grievously charred, her fur and flesh burned away in a deep semicircle duplicating the arc of the flaming tree trunk. The bees moved quickly, carrying honey from the hive and administering Lumina's wounds. They slathered honey on her legs and chest, knowing that it possessed restorative faculties and hoping that the magic of the locust trees would preserve her life.

When Lumina woke, her pain was gone. She was sure her legs would be forever useless, but they effortlessly performed when she flexed and stood. She licked at her honey-covered wounds and was rewarded with the deliciousness of the most delightful and exhilarating flavor of her life. So this was Black Locust Forest honey ... it was far beyond her expectations, transcending what the legends foretold. The earth beneath her paws seemed to convey its devotion to all creatures and her taste buds vibrated in sympathetic harmony with the living sunlight.

her fur and flesh burned away in a deep semicircle duplicating the arc of the flaming tree trunk.

Her bee friend perched on her nose. "I'm sorry that we stung you," it said. "We thank you for delivering us from the fire, but your courage cannot save us from our fate. Here on the ground, we cannot adequately defend ourselves. Our hive must disband, and our honey will be forever lost. We bid you to take it, enjoy it, and think favorably of us when you remember this day."

"Wait, there is yet hope," said Lumina. She grasped the top of the hive in her teeth and walked toward the stream where she had sharpened her claws. A cliff towered above the waterfall, and Lumina, using all her climbing capabilities and renewed strength, scaled it until finding a solid ledge for the colony. "You should be safe here. I think no creature but myself could surmount this cliff and disturb you. It may sound immodest, but I am an unparalleled climber."

"Yes, you've proven that," said the bee. "And you've proven your unparalleled friendship as well."

"No fire can find you here. This cliff is anchored to bedrock rooted deep in the earth."

"It's an excellent home," said the bee. "We will remember you, friend bear. You are always welcome here, and our honey is forever at your disposal."

Our hive must disband, and our honey will be forever lost.

Lumina climbed down and traveled home. The scar on her chest always remained, and her fur grew over it in the color of honey, contrasting the rest of her coat. Through the honey's miraculous properties, all of her descendants bore the same chest patch. Throughout the generations, they made pilgrimages to the Black Locust Forest, where the bees recognized their markings and welcomed them.

They became known as sun bears because their chest patches resembled the rising sun. The smallest of the many types of bears, they were the only creatures agile enough to scale the cliff of the enchanted hive. They loved honey above all other delicacies and traveled everywhere to sample different varieties, but black locust honey would remain the most meaningful.

That all happened many thousands of years ago, and the world has changed. Forests, rivers, and even mountain ranges lost their names, and it is not known where the Solvation Mountains now lie, if the Black Locust Forest remains, or if that wondrous colony of bees endures. If they do exist, they're hidden from human knowledge. Only the sun bears may know.

However, black locust honey, while exceedingly rare, has not vanished. The locust trees migrated across the continents from the Solvation Mountains, settling wherever the climate, sun, and earth were best, and they may yet retain a little of their enchantment from the days of the original sun bears.

They loved honey above all other delicacies and traveled everywhere to sample different varieties

Cornell & Diehl's Sun Bear

Sun bears enjoy all honey, but it's said they have a particular affinity for the black locust variety. The two are intertwined through fable and mutual affection, and it's unsurprising that C&D's Sun Bear tobacco would integrate so flavorfully with black locust honey.

Sun Bear is released annually, and the honey varietal is essential to its character. Black locust honey was last employed in the blend in 2021, when Victor Seested, a pipe-smoking Maryland beekeeper, provided the rarity. Victor has again furnished the black locust honey, and 2024's Sun Bear is virtually the same as in 2021.

The Red Virginia in Sun Bear is from crop year 2017, and the Canadian Bright Virginia is from 2019. Orientals contribute significantly to the blend, with Basma from 2014 and İzmir from 2013. Added to that mixture are whispered notes of silver tequila, elderflower, and, of course, black locust honey.

The honey may not be quite as enchanted as the Solvation Mountains honey of legend, and Victor's bees don't talk, as far as we know. At least not to us. But the flavor of Sun Bear possesses a mystical virtue that distinguishes it from other smoking mixtures. It's an elemental force of its own, imbued with the qualities of earth, air, and sunlight. And it's returning soon. Watch for Small Batch: Sun Bear Black Locust, available August 13 at 6:00 p.m. ET.