Yes, and here it is. The empty honey comb, lately robbed by our hive of erstwhile bees.
We have often had a hive of bees wherever we lived. Our venture with a conventional hive a few years ago turned out to be a disaster. A black bear found our bees and in a few short minutes, with the swipe of his muddy paw, he toppled the hive and helped himself to a giant portion of honey and comb. After consulting with the MDC we found that once a bear has tasted honey it will return for more. The solution? Make a bee gum and just enjoy seeing the bees doing their thing.
Andy found a hollow tree, fitted it out with a few frames of pre-made comb, poured in some bees we got from a friend, screwed on a bear-proof top, and chained it to a tree. All went well. They settled in and soon had that bee gum humming with activity. And no varmint came near to disrupt their happy home.
We checked them frequently. They were busy bees all through the summer and fall. During the winter they seemed to be thriving. This spring we were delighted to see them ranging out to gather pollen. What a joy it was to see them working their little wings and tails off, bringing in the where-with-all to make their little colony thrive. They kicked out the drones at the appropriate time. And left them to die on the front porch....or near by. [This cruel but necessary practice is the part of beekeeping that makes me sad].
All went well into the hot part of late spring and early summer. And then a few weeks ago Andy went down to check on them. He came back with some bad news. No bees were flying in and out. No activity at all. We feared the worst. Colony collapse? Some other catastrophe? Maybe some invader had found a way in and caused them to scatter. Bees are pretty defensive. They don't just surrender without a fight.
I went down to look the scene over. Made me sad to see just a few bodies scattered here and there.
The other morning Andy fired up his smoker and opened up the lid. Nothing was there. A few wax worms. And lots of empty comb.
They had swarmed! Yes, those little guys that we nurtured and provided a home for all this time just packed their bags, took their queen with them and went off to find someplace better to live.
Andy split the gum and we examined the remains. Not a pretty sight. They had filled that entire log with comb....layers thick. They were good at what they do best...making honey and making new bees to take their places as they grow old and die.
I miss them. But I know they are out there somewhere...maybe not too far away. A hollow tree. A cleft in a branch, high up where they can soar.
Happy hunting bees. We wish you well.
