Could it bee that simple?

A nearby tree,
recently came alive
with the sound of a gazillion buzzing bees.
They covered the pollinating tree,
in an organized frenzy.

This brought to mind,
of a day in Michigan,
in 2013.

I had gone out to get the mail and
heard the buzz of quite a few bees.
I looked in the direction of the sound and
discovered bees swarming
on my Blue Spruce pine tree.
How odd!!

1-bees ariving.JPG
photo by ren – all those ‘dots’ are bees.

A friend just happened by
at that same time. (I love synchronicity!)
I showed him the bee activity,
which was increasing in numbers,
rather quickly.

2 GEDC0411.JPG
photo by ren

He called a beekeeper,
who was a good friend of his.
After explaining the situation,
the beekeeper said he would come take a look.

By the time he arrived,
the bees were settling in for the evening.

3-bees resting for the night.JPG
photo by ren – the brown ‘glob’ are the bees

He examined the situation,
debating if he needed to ‘gear-up’ in his bee suit.
After getting out his ladder, bee box and smoker,
he chose to suit up.

It was interesting to watch him interact with the bees,
as he decided where the queen was resting.
He explained that all he had to do,
was get the queen into the box and
the others would follow….

4-a branch full of bees.JPG
photo by ren

…and Β he cut a bee-laden branch from the tree
and bare handed.

He then placed it inside the box,
stating he’d be back at dusk
to take them away.

photo by ren

I asked why did they come to my pine tree?
If I recall right,
he said that sometimes,
when a hive gets too large,
a group of bees will break away,
to go start their own colony.

He felt that they were just passing through,
in search of a new home and
would have left the next day.

Then I asked what he would do with these bees and
his reply amazed me….
He has various farmers in the area,
whom he will rent the bees to.
He takes the bees to the farm
and picks them up at the end of the needed season.

photo by ren

My grandfather was a farmer and raised bees.
He instilled within me, a love and respect for bees.

When ever a bee got inside his farm house,
he would walk up to it,
talking gently to the bee….
offering a finger,
for a free ride outside.

The bees loved my grandfather,
for they would climb on board his finger-float,
and whisper a sweet farewell,
as they flew out the door.





  1. Your Grampa was a bee whisperer! And you? A queen (bee). πŸ˜€ Thanks for your lovely story. My ex was a beekeeper for a while and I learned much from him. He often helped a local friend out here, Phill, who is also a beekeeper. When I see a honey bee here in my yard I say “Tell Phill I said Hi”. ❀

    Liked by 1 person

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