Bees are Buzzing

Written and read for you by Muriel Murch with WSM by my side

The orange one and his grubby companions are causing horrendous chaos in Washington and the world, but one thing they cannot stop is this morning’s spring sunshine. Even in the worst of times, which for so many people in the world this is, the spring sunshine is bringing warmth and a moment of peace within the despair of their lives. How can it be otherwise when the world is churning upside down, as if a mammoth is rising up from the depth of the ocean and has begun a tidal wave of tsunami proportions? We do not know when this will be stopped for surely as America and the world come to their senses, the end of their road and rope will be reached.

Last week an early swam of bees arrived. First they circled the redwood trees, then the wood pile below, before settling deep into the as yet unpruned Cécile Brunner rose. They presented a knotty problem, this is not really a safe place for them while being a very tricky spot for any bee keeper to reach. But these were the gentlest bees I can remember ever working with. They slid into the skip and were happily transferred to an already swept out and refreshed hive body waiting for them. It was a big swarm and has settled in nicely and I am a little bit gleeful, for we may – eventually – profit from their upgraded housing. You can live here – and we will harvest – tithing you – later in the year. Sounds a little like a mafia move to me.

They are very hard to see but – trust me – they are there.

But then a little swarm returned to the rose bush, hiding, I suspect, a young and tender queen who was having none of it and could not be persuaded to move. A few days later I tried to add them to their sisters in the big hive but no – back to their rose bush they flew and by the following morning were clustered, a smidgen smaller, but still holding onto their rose bush branch. She, their young queen, and they know better than to trust me and, if they had time, could become strong enough to find ‘just the right’ log or tree, and they would move on again. But there isn’t time. We are wanting to host a small party in the back garden later this week and not everyone is comfortable with worker bees out and about. There could be panic among the humans, panic among the bees as the workers die off in the efforts to save their little queen, who may die before they find a suitable home and build up a colony that will survive and grow. I look at the bees, some acquiescing to our manipulation and others holding out for what they believe in. It feels a little like some of the behavior in North America right now. So this morning, while the dew was still on the ground, and the sun had not reached this cluster holding tight for warmth, I came to them again. Sweeping them softly into a box, closing it quickly and then taking it to a smaller hive that I had again prepared. This time they went in and by the time this letter is finished for you they will be busy setting up house and drawing out comb ready to take care of their community once more.