Our bees left us this week. We tried to keep them by cutting this branch off into a new hive. And they seemed to be happy. For a couple of days.
Then, sometime yesterday or the night before, they left. For cooler pastures? Because of the moon? With a song in their hearts? We missed the migration, the drama of leaving a fully stocked home. And wonder about the motives and catalyst. Queens have a will of their own and a duty to build and thrive in their queendom.
A sad day for us nonetheless. They left a hive of spoiled honey—larvae looking for their keepers. The heat makes the air warm with honey drafts.
