Don't Worry, Bee Happy
Saturday, June 19, 2010 at 06:05PM The trouble with having a nice piece of property is that freeloaders want to stay at your place.
I’m not talking about relatives. I’m talking animals. For instance, twice in three years a mother mockingbird has set up a nest directly under the seat of my tractor. Instinctively, she seems to know that my ample “seat” will keep her babies warm. Birds are smart. Annoying, but smart.
Mockingbird nest under tractor seat
I know mockingbirds from the city where they mercilessly dive-bomb cats which get too close to their nests. I also know that nests close to the ground are prime targets for snakes. Normally, I fear neither birds nor snakes, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to worry about my eyes getting pecked out or a snake crawling over my hip every time I get on the tractor.
And what happens if I drive off for several hours with squawking babies under my butt? Am I supposed to stop at McWormies drive-thru for a quadruple McChirpy meal?
Knowing the mockingbirds, they’d put out an Amber Alert and when I got back to my “parking spot” the scene would resemble a Hitchcock movie.
No, I had to draw the line. They can crap all over my tractor; they just can’t use it as a nursery. I built a covered, snake-proof nest holder only feet from my tractor and put the nest in it. I don’t think the mockingbird ever found it. I am sure she has me marked for extermination. I wear safety glasses whenever I leave the house now.
Today we were visited by several thousand nesters. Yes, I said several THOUSAND. Bees. Lots and lots of honey bees.
While watching the World Cup, I noticed a cloud moving toward the house, and in seconds the sound of South African vuvuzelas was drowned out by thousands of bees swarming just outside our back door. I was dumbstruck, a condition my wife often elicits when she smacks me for saying something dumb. Bees. Women. They both sting, yet I still call my bride “Honey.”
Anyway, my wife, son and I watched from screened safety as the swarm, moving like a small tornado, moved from near our back door toward a tree only 50 yards from our deck. I went out and followed them to within 15 yards of the tree. The sound and sight was mesmerizing, and as I stood watching, hundreds of bees passed all around me on their way to join the group.
In minutes the swarm settled on a branch about 20 feet off the ground and the buzz died.
“Ned!” I yelled into the cell phone. “I’m staring at a swarm of bees.”
Ned Strange is the guy you call for anything and everything. He’s our meat goat mentor, egg supplier, revered friend and part-time beekeeper. If I needed brain surgery, a new pickup or a recipe for rabbit barbecue, I’d call Ned.
He’s been looking for a wild herd of bees to lasso and take back to his farm, so he threw an empty hive into his truck and came over. Normally, he’d spritz the mass of bees with some sugar water and shake them into a bucket, but they were too high in the tree. So, we put the empty hive under the tree and spiked it with honey. While we stood there, several bees found the honey hive and hopefully took the info back to the swarm. The goal is to get the swarm to move into the prefabricated digs and ultimately end up at Strange Farms.
I don’t know what will become of the bees, but I may never see my oldest son again. Upon discovering the bees had nestled in our tree, my youngest son, Jordan, called Brandon with the “good” news.
“Screw that,” Brandon replied. “I DON’T want to be there.”
Brandon is 21, six-foot-three and a decorated life guard. Yet he squeals like a girl and runs if anything with a stinger comes within a mile of his citified self. Country, he ain’t.
Bees are good for flowers and good to have around. Younger brothers, not so much.
Alan
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A. Keck |
3 Comments | 

Reader Comments (3)
Bees are good for the garden but I'd hightail it out of there. BTW, my hubby isn't a big fan of them either and will sort of squeal like a girl too. And he's a pretty big guy.
I always knew Brandon was highly intelligent!!
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