The bees are gone. Most of them any way.
Earlier this spring the automatic waterer behind the house was swarming with them. They lined up solid three deep around the edge of the trough each fighting for it’s turn. I would stand at the fence and watch them trying not to cower from the constant buzzing stream of them over my head. I was not going any closer, I like bees a lot, but the shear numbers were over powering. I enjoyed knowing that during this miserably dry summer they had a water source. That water drew them in to pollinate the vegetables, the crops, my flowers.
When I stopped to watch them yesterday only a few bees buzzed aimlessly about. I had heard that the bee people moved the hives but it was sad to see the mass hoards lessened. I will be glad not to have so many of the poor things get trapped in the green house beating their wings against the walls until they collapse to the ground. I do worry a lot about them drowning, they get to pushing and one falls in, they don’t swim so good. At my much smaller and less frequented water hole in my flowers I am always stopping to fish one out, but I was not braving the swarm at the more populous drinking hole.
I have been stung many times because of this fascination with bees. I picked one up on a warm winter day and sat him back on the edge of his hive, unfortunately as I sat him down he fell, unbeknownst to me, into my coat pocket. I discovered his presence later that day as I put my hand into my pocket, he didn’t appreciate the company.
While happy for the remaining wild bees I already miss the larger numbers although with all the spraying for grasshoppers I am glad to see them gone.