Odd uses of a flowerpot...

I am almost at the end of my second season as a bee keeper and was tying up the rampant honeysuckle to the trellis when another plot-holder shouted me, pointed at the new hive and then promptly locked himself in his shed. There was a mass of bees flying above the hive, many more than the normal daily activity so I wandered over to have a look. Bees were pouring out of the entrance and, when they’d more or less all exited, moved as a cloud across the allotments and settled in the highest tree they could find.
There was nothing I could do then, so I finished off the plot jobs, called at the house (in whose garden the tree was) to apologise and let them know I was coming back, then went home for a bite to eat and to assemble a brood box and equipment to house the swarm. We returned around 5.30, just as the rain started. After some difficulty getting the ladder up to the tree, a manoeuvre which included dropping it on my head, I finally got it positioned and started to climb.

In the textbooks, collecting a swarm is a piece of piss. In reality, 20’ off the ground, trying to hold onto a wobbly ladder, a spray, a sheet and a cardboard box and shake the tree to dislodge the colony, it’s anything but. I soon got rid of the spray, dropping it into the thick grass. Next I cut a couple of little branches to get the box in position, then I whacked the trunk. Nothing. A slight buzzing but no movement. So I shook the tree harder. While some of the bees dropped into the box, plenty more decided it was time to fly. I got back down to the ground and put the box onto the sheet, propping open an entrance. When I looked up, most of the bees were still where they were: on the tree. By now I was sweating like a pig, a mixture of nervous energy and adrenalin-fuelled fear. Grabbing a large flower pot, I went up again, managed to get the pot under another large hanging cluster and, again, shook hard. This time they dropped with a plop and I got stung in the process. I don’t think I ever got down from a ladder so quickly. I threw the rest of the bees into the box and then left them for the night, not hoping for much.

The next day the bees were gone from the tree and were clustered in the box so I decided I probably got the queen. Now I just had to get them out of the box and into the hive.

And the easiest way to do this? Shake them out. So I did. Mostly all over the floor but some of them went into the hive. I arranged the sheet (bought in India ten years ago and, until now, unused) so they could use it as a little ramp to get into their new home.

Then, slowly but surely, the remaining bees walked into the hive. I've heard about this before but this is the first time I have witnessed it and it is, indeed, fascinating; watching them all plod up the cloth and in through the hive entrance.

After about an hour they were all, more or less, inside. The feeder was filled with sugar syrup so they don't starve, and the roof put on.

I can only hope, now, that the queen is inside and in one piece. I have to check the hive they swarmed from, to see what is going on in there, but as there were a lot of wasps buzzing round I decided to leave it for another day. I don't like wasps at all and, even though they were sneakily robbing the honey, I still found it unsettling.

This my first swarm experience and I learned a lot from it. The hand that was stung swelled up dramatically over the next day but, two days later, is going down slowly. I am glad it was only the one sting! Now all I have to think are the robbing wasps and the three colonies I now have. I don't have any more equipment and some of the boxes on one hive don't fit properly, leaking when it rains. I will have to reduce my stock down to two for the winter.

Thanks to Agnieszka for moral support and photos, I'll try to keep the bees out of your hair.