Last Friday night was exciting.  I was on my way to the car to go eat with Pat when she said, "Come here, Mom.  Look."  And there next to my driveway in a bush, about a foot from the ground, was a swarm of bees the size of two or three footballs.  After a few calls I found someone to come get them  at 10 o'clock that night--after they settled down.  I was amazed that some of the people I called offered to kill them.  Gee, I could have killed them.  Anyone could.  But who would kill a bee!!!  That would be Murder.   Duh.

I could have detached the swarm into a box, but I gave away my (Becky's hand-me-down) bee suit and hat.  She, Becky, had brought me her hive and smoker, bee-stuff, etc. when she moved from Billings, Mt. headed to Houston or Illinois or somewhere.  She put duct tape around the hive, put it in the back of her SUV, and drove from Montana to Oklahoma with a zillion bees buzzing in the back seat.  (I never said any of my kids had good sense.)

I kept the bees for a few years.  They swarmed occasionally.  Once into my apple tree.  One of my friends had an extra hive so I called him.  He held the ladder, placed the box under the swarm while I climbed  up into the tree and knocked the swarm down.   It was an exciting bee rescue.  We need them.  They are vanishing.  Losing them would be tragic.  (Nobody got stung.)

Everything went well after the man picked them up,  until I got up Saturday morning, went out to check the bush, and found a tiny swarm that had been left behind in the dark.  The queen was gone and the orphan bees didn't know what to do.  So they just wadded up into a ball and hummed.  I felt so upset for them.  I called Pat.  Then had Becky come over and  between my two daughter's bee-guru advice, I had to face the truth.  Nature is cruel.  Those bees were going to die.  It's Monday.  They are still there.  I have been praying that God will help them find their way back home.  Maybe their old family will forgive them for leaving with a new Queen.  I hope so.  Even bees deserve a second chance.  It's upsetting to know there isn't anything I can do.