Our bees were the last of our critters that needed new homes. I called an experienced local beekeeper, Skip. He came with his own supers as I wanted to keep my equipment. He came at night so the bees would be home and settled.
Only these bees weren't anywhere near settled.
The hive was jampacked (it's been a great spring for bees) and almost ready to swarm. They didn't take kindly to being transferred into a new hive. They didn't take kindly to someone trying to get them all inside. They didn't take kindly to Skip. He decided to leave them overnight and come the next night, well after dark, to take them away.
Next night after dark. The crickets are chirping, the bats are flying, the fireflies are twinkling, and the bees have decided to flaunt millenia of evolution and stay up all night. The front and bottom of the hive are covered with bees as is poor Skip. No amount of sweet talk or waiting is going to see these bees inside. Skip takes yet another 20 or so stings and throws in the towel. We agree I'll get up early and staple shut the opening.
I'm at the hive at 5:30am. There are still at least 20 bees around the opening but I can brush them aside and secur the opening. Only I discover that the staple gun is packed somewhere in the middle of a zillion boxes already in my truck. I succeed in blocking the hole by putting a brick over it. It will have to do.
Skip makes his third trip out to our place. He finally gets the handtruck with the hive down the hill to his truck. I notice the bottom is covered with yet more rogue bees. At least this time he only gets stung twice. And finally drives away with my bees.
As Skip so sagely noted, bees keep you on your toes.
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