QueenSpotting by Hilary Kearney

Author:Hilary Kearney
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: nature gifts;bees;Beekeeping;Beekeeping book;how do bees make honey;bee hive;parts of a beehive;beehive challenge;bee puzzle;bee swarm;bee swarms;queen bee;pollinator;pollinators;gifts for gardeners;gift for nature lovers;gift book for science teacher;colony;swarm catcher;spot the queen;virgin death match;nuptual flight;girl next door honey
Publisher: Storey Publishing, LLC
Published: 2019-04-15T16:00:00+00:00

My brother and I are in the middle of relocating a colony that has built its comb on the underside of a thick tree limb. It hangs high, shielded by foliage, but just 20 feet from the sidewalk.

Reaching down from his spot on the ladder, my brother hands me another large piece of comb. It’s surprisingly hot and heavy, like a freshly made pancake dripping with honey. He works with quick purpose, while I linger over details. I laugh and wave at an agog passerby. I doubt anybody noticed this colony before, but now nearly every car slows down to stare at us and the cloud of bees we are stirring up.

The foraging bees will return to the spot where their colony was, even after the comb is gone. So we have to position the hive box as close to this location as possible. Unfortunately, the box containing the transferred comb is a good 10 feet below the original colony. The confused bees have already started to swirl and rove around the area, unable to find it.

I stop to consider their movement, and that’s when we notice that a group of bees has broken off from the rest. They are circling my Prius! My brother goes to investigate. “A lot of bees are under your car, but the queen isn’t there,” he shouts.

The queen has to be there; otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many bees so far from the colony. I crouch down to search a large pile of bees on the ground near the car. He’s right. She’s not there. I start scanning the sky for her. It’s a long shot, but sometimes I can actually see her flying around in the middle of this kind of chaos.

Then my brother spots her. She’s on the other side of the car, in a smaller pile of bees, and she is running around on the asphalt. I am delighted with the absurdity of the moment, snapping pictures while my brother urges me to do something. We are lucky she hasn’t been run over, he warns. I see his point and quickly scoop her up in my gloved hands and reunite her with her colony in the safety of their new hive box.

Then my brother spots her. She’s on the other side of the car, in a smaller pile of bees, and she is running around on the asphalt.

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