Indiana Jane and the sacred swarm

The first thing I really remember wanting to be when I grew up was Indiana Jones.   The way he was transformed from a cerebral and boring professor - with a hat and a passport -  into an exciting adventurer.   Once I realized what the typical archaeologist really did, though, it lost its appeal.   Then, I found beekeeping, which for me seems to be an expression of why I was drawn to Indy's life as a kid - the adventurous spirit, living a bit on the edge (at least doing things that others felt were scary and dangerous) - and finding the excitement, sacred, beauty, and thrill in this amazing world.  

While my experiences in beekeeping are all exciting, this year I began a pretty great adventure in beekeeping as I've immersed myself in learning about and working with honey bee swarms. 

About a month ago, in my continuous search for all things honey bee in Louisville, I went to find the local extension office.  There I met a wonderful lady who coordinates Louisville's community gardens.  I shared with her my passion for beekeeping - esp. urban beekeeping - and my interest in swarms.   This got me on her referral list.   Since then, when someone calls Metro Government about a possible swarm of honey bees they've spotted, they tell them to call me. 

I've been connecting the calls to our local beekeeping association members, but today, I was able to respond, Indy style.  Cue theme music here...  ; )

A man, who lives on Northwestern Parkway, one of the historic parkways of the Olmsted design, called me with stress in his voice.   He had spotted a mass of bees outside of his home was worried about his safety and the safety of  his elderly mother.  From the sounds of it, I pictured a mass of bees flying every which way within a few feet of his front door.   He was clear with me that he didn't know what to do and needed help.  

I knew that I couldn't take the swarm to my house yet - I'm working on my apiary and don't yet have a space for them.   I was able to find a local coffee shop owner who lives in Portland.  He and his daughters and wife are working with their local neighborhood to start an urban orchard, and I knew that he had built a beautiful hive for one of his daughters - she is becoming their family beekeeper.    Luckily, they were able to meet me there, and brought a box from their Warre hive with them to take the bees home. 

When I arrived, Matt, his wife, and three daughters were already there.  The homeowner, Tim, was there and a couple of other friends.  Today is a beautiful spring day, blue sunny sky, not much wind.  Tim had called me at about 12:00 noon, and we all arrived by 1:45.    

From the phone, Tim had spoken with fear in his voice like there was a lion outside his front door.   What I saw, looked more like a kitty cat.  A kitty cat with claws perhaps, but really just a purring kitty.
Tim is a burly strong looking guy - maybe in his early 30's, and likely not scared of much.  What is it about the honey bee that inspires fear?   Our myths are much stronger than reality - and our knowledge of honey bee behavior has been lost.    

Swarms are usually docile, as Lydia, the 14 year old beekeeper can tell you.  She sat about a foot away from the swarm, with only a bee veil and a white hoodie (no gloves) for almost 1 1/2 hours while I gingerly brushed bees into their new home.   Emily, her sister, avidly documented the whole experience with her camera.  These are all Emily's photo included in this post.    



Lydia and I create our plan of action.  See the lovely swarm hanging out on the bottom of this tree? 

 Tim, the homeowner, will have great stories to tell about the swarm, the beekeeper, and the family out in front of his home.  From the safety of his porch, he was on his cell sharing the amazing experience.  Even with his fears, he knew he may never see anything like this again.

After a good 45 minutes of brushing bees into the hive box I thought that I had about gotten them all.  At Matt's suggestion, I pulled off pieces of bark, and found many more bees underneath.  Though we looked and looked (Lydia was a trooper and focused on looking for the queen for almost 90 minutes straight), we never saw the queen.  All I could do was to approach my work gently and hope that I did not accidentally hurt her and get her into the hive box along with most of the bees.  

The swarm moved a bit on the tree - likely due to where the queen was moving.  Though there were a number flying about, they were really calm during the whole process. 



I thought I had gotten most all of the bees at this point.   At Matt's suggestion, I started tugging on the bark where there seemed to be a few bees coming and going. 



Jackpot!  The bark was really soft and came off easily, revealing lots of bees still underneath.  I tucked the bark down into the hive box, and got most of the rest in as well. 

Lydia, the brave, took the only sting of the day on her hand.  I watched her calmly scrape off the stinger, and get right back to searching for the queen.    I was so impressed. 

We were able to brush an amazing number of bees into the hive box, leaving very few on the base of the tree where they had settled.   The bees never seemed to bothered by the process, though I did wish there was a less disruptive way to get them into the box.   We did put some honeycomb 'lure' into the box, but it's really the queen that they're following.   

It was amazing to see how many bees were in the box!  I'm guessing that my careful brushing had less to do with it, and rather I luckily got the queen in the box at some point. 

We patiently watched the bees in the hive box to see signs that the queen may have gotten inside.   There were a number of bees on the upper edge of the box with their little butts in air and wings fanning.  This was a good sign that the queen had made it into the box, as they were fanning her pheromone into the air to encourage the other bees to join them in the box indicating the location of their new home. 

After letting them settle into the box,  Matt packed it into the back of their station wagon and they headed home.   He's got it on their back porch now and will set it up tomorrow in the full hive, where they will quickly begin building beautiful pure white honeycomb which will hold the precious brood, honey, and pollen - the heart and soul of the hive. 

Leaving Tim's house, taking off my coveralls and bee veil - I was elated and inspired.  I felt that I had been allowed to be a part of something amazing with these little honey bees. 

Honey bees have already led me on some pretty great adventures near and far, and I expect there will be more to come!

Note:  Thanks to photographer Emily Huested for documenting our experience with her wonderful photos!