The bees have arrived (and escaped)

Yikes

The last time I wrote to you about bees, I talked about transporting beehives from one place to another.

I wrote this:

The plan was that I’d be driving all the way over there (an hour away), putting the hive into my car. The thought of driving in a car that had a beehive in it was horrifying to me, but actually ….it’s grand. They’re strapped down in there, and have no way of getting out no matter how many sneaking feelings you might have in the back of your mind.

Well, I picked up two honeybee hives on Sunday and lemme tell you now, there is a revised version of what I wrote.

NEW AND UPDATED. It wasn’t “grand” and they would, in fact, escape.

Through a tiny hole! Through the rear-view mirror I saw a single bee float lazily up in a spiral and land gracefully on the back window.

It seemed calm enough. My mind was careening off into the worst possible destinations by then though.

At the very least I could cause a traffic accident. I had to do something.

I pulled over and made a face at myself in the window. I already had my suspicions. One of the beehives was in the boot, so it was fine. But one of the beehives was in a very precarious position on the back seat: this was the one they were escaping from, I figured.

Two beehives: one in the boot and one in the backseat. The pictures are a bit misty because of the air con being set to high. It helps keep them calm if you're driving.

Every bump I went over or turn I had to take, the beehive on the back seat would rock back and forth alarmingly like an unhinged cradle prison full of spicy sky raisins.

The noises that were coming out of that thing were not very pleasant.

I waited and watched patiently for another bee to appear, following it to find the hole. Another wriggled through, waving its antennae gently: it made me think of how mice can get into even the slightest of cracks. I wanted to put out my hand and let it wander onto me, but that could wait. The feel of tiny bee feet is the same calibre of miracle as holding your kid in your arms and feeling their heart beat, the aliveness of them.

Gotta focus on the task at hand.

My son is two years old, so, of course, my car is disgusting. Eventually I found a tissue and squished it up and plugged the hole with that.

And it worked! A euphoric peace broke out in my body. It was like I was floating through the world.

I made it home without any new friends buzzing around my head.

The beehives in their final spot in the fenced off area of the garden we call ‘the bee garden’, for obvious reasons.

I left the hives in the car for a while to settle and got some water. My husband came out to give me a hand carrying them into the bee garden. He picked up the hive on the back seat first, and the noise that roared out of there, like the revving of a motorbike - it’ll stick with me forever.

I’m going to do the first inspection in a few days, can’t wait to see what we’re dealing with.

Being able to leave the writing shed at any time during my workday and walk around to the fenced off area behind it…and lean on the fence and just watch the bees come and go for a few minutes.

I’m a very lucky person. What else could you want.

Thanks for reading

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