Swarm

Thomasboro swarm climbs down off the hydrant.

Bees don’t like being crowded (who does?). When their hives grow too big for their britches, bees think about finding a new home. April and May are months when bees are likely to opt for new real estate because their hives get overfull with bustling baby bees.

Since a bee hive is not a home without a queen, the first thing bees do when preparing to swarm is raise a new queen. The old queen stays in the existing hive with part of the population, while another group follows the new queen in search of adventure. If you spy a cluster of several thousand bees hanging from a fence post, apple tree, eve of a house or even a fire hydrant, chances are very high that you are witnessing a swarm, and in the middle of the mass of bees a queen is holding court.

If you should be lucky enough to see a swarm of bees, don’t panic. Swarming bees are not likely to sting. The bees in a swarm are as gentle and non-aggressive as you will ever meet. They are homeless bees with no brood or stores of honey. They have nothing to defend and they know it.

When bees swarm, they usually pick a location for “hanging around” (literally) while they send out scouts to investigate hollows and cavities suitable for founding a new hive. The scout bees report back to the swarm through a dance and a wiggle. The swarm considers the choices, makes a decision and off they go.

I know it’s swarm season, but the call from Thomasboro IL to pick up a swarming mass of bees was unexpected. I did not know the man who called me, but he explained that he was a friend of someone who knew Dex Conaway, the farmer of Sola Gratia, the new farm of St. Matthews Lutheran Church (Urbana IL). Dex had given the man my name. I know Dex because I am the beekeeper for Sola Gratia Farm. The man on the phone asked if I would I please come to Thomasboro to remove a swarm clinging to a fire hydrant next to his house. His voice had the ring of urgency.

Would I come remove a swarm? I would love to! I grabbed my swarm tools, a beekeeping veil and a vacant hive box, and pointed my red Prius toward Thomasboro. Swarms can decide to move at a moment’s notice and the disappointment of losing a swarm is great. When you’re catching a swarm, it’s good to move fast.

Ed Sexton scoops bees into hive.

As I pulled into Thomasboro, I could tell from the crowd of on-lookers and policemen that the swarm was still there. I set up an empty hive box and gently scooped a few of the bees onto the top of the frames, hoping the others would follow. While I was working, Ed Sexton, another beekeeper drew up. Ed slipped into his bee suit and together we coaxed the buzzing cluster into the hive box. Within very little time about two thousand bees were humming happily in a hive box in the back of my red Prius.

The road from Thomasboro to Sola Gratia Farm is almost a straight beeline, and since a contact through the Church had led to my capturing this swarm, I decided that the appropriate location for the new hive would be on the rich earthen fields of the Church’s farm. It’s just a guess, but I think the Great Beekeeper would want it that way.