Sunday, June 25, 2017


Way up there, maybe 50 or so feet from the ground, they landed. We had watched as they rose in a cyclone of wings ascending from the hive, then flew. I ran outside, searching, as I rounded the bee yard, I cupped my hands behind my ear to trace the sound better. And there they be! We tried what we had available, but the ladder was too short, no pole could reach, the tree frail - each smaller branch snapping easily in my grasp. How would it hold me up to climb another thirty feet? I gave up, defeated. 

We went in to play a game. I wandered out between turns, pondering. At one point, I thought the garden had too many bees flying over it, but I wasn't at liberty to check at the time. I finally ventured to get another tool from the shop and saw it.

A cluster of bees working their way into the hive. Upon inspection, there were dead bees on the ground. The swarm had decided to take over the garden hive. I hazard the guess that this hive may also have swarmed and the weakened condition left them an easy mark for the larger group of bees. They all filed in by nightfall.

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