Bears and bees

The night before last all was well with our bees in their new hive.  They were tucking themselves in for the night, humming as they cleaned up after the busy day, making plans for the coming of daybreak, knowing there was much to be done in their constant search for food and water.  Busy bees indeed.

But sometime in the twenty-four hour period between eight p.m. Wednesday and seven p. m. last night, a black bear raided our hive and scattered it across the green grass.  Andy found it first and came to get me to help.  I don't work with the bees but I can be an extra pair of hands on occasion.  I took pictures while he assessed the damage.  Thankfully, bees were clustered on the main hive body and the frames of comb were intact.  After suiting up Andy carefully put things back together.  I stayed in the truck, with the windows rolled up and mourned, trying to get an idea of what we might need to do next.

We have had bees before, in Illinois and in the Irish Wilderness.  It had been nearly forty years since we had fooled with them but we were delighted to take on beekeeping again.  Not so much for the honey but for the pleasure of seeing them work so hard.  They are fascinating creatures.

Andy worked hard last night, moving the hive to a new location and then he was up early this morning getting them settled in.  They are mad.  They are fighting mad.  Andy has been stung many times, but he is used to it.  Fingers crossed that they decide to stay where they are now.  I would be very unhappy if they swarmed and left us.  

But there is one thing we have learned.  Bees make honey.  Bears like honey.  And right there is one of those sad facts of life.  Bears and bees don't mix.