Water Mill Man Opens Air Bee And Bee

Maybe the best thing about writing this column is hearing from readers, especially when they say that I taught them something or helped them look at bees in a new way. Often a reader will get in touch because she thinks she has a honeybee colony on her property and isn’t sure what to do about it. Most of the time those “honeybees” turn out to be paper wasps or yellow jackets, but I’m always glad when people take the time to check instead of calling an exterminator first and asking questions later. It’s hard enough being a honeybee these days without having someone empty a can of Raid into your house.By far my favorite email from a reader was one that came a few weeks ago from Ernie, a longtime Water Mill resident. It read in part:

“Here is my story. In June 2015 I was working in my garden when a tremendous swarm of bees descended on the area near the corner of my house. I went inside. My city guests were crazy and started talking about exterminators, etc. I know bees are so necessary to the chain of life and told my friends to calm down and enjoy the show. Anyway, after an hour I noticed that the bees were all gathered around a hole in my siding where my upstairs deck meets the house. And there they have lived for 13 months. I am happy to share the space with them but I now notice that the boards are beginning to separate from the house and I have some concern the bees will expand from the deck to the house. Do you know of somebody who could take the bees safely from my house to a hive? I do not want to hurt them but I am not sure how safe it would be if they are between the studs inside the wall next to my bedroom. Any assistance or advice would be much appreciated.”

Well, this was different. First, I was impressed that the initial swarm of bees didn’t alarm him. Thirty thousand bees or so flying into your yard can seem a bit like the bee-pocalypse, but Ernie’s instincts were right—the bees weren’t interested in bothering anybody, they just wanted to get settled into their new home. Honeybees are at their least aggressive when they’re swarming, but when you don’t know that, and the air around you is alive with fast-moving, armed insects, it can be a little terrifying.

Not only was my new friend sanguine about his new houseguests, he allowed them to set up shop in the wall structure beneath his second-floor deck. I can’t say I would do the same. I love my bees like family, but—as with some family members—a little distance is not a bad thing.

It’s easy to see why the bees were happy with the new spot. The scout bee that found the hole in the wall no doubt went back to the colony’s previous residence and told her sisters about the great new digs she’d found: a small, defensible entrance hole, empty space inside to build out comb, and a flower-filled landscape literally right outside the door. High enough above the ground to be safe from predators, sheltered from the weather. No wonder the swarm couldn’t wait to follow her there—the place is honeybee heaven.

But like houseguests who don’t know when to leave, honeybees quickly lose all perspective about whose space they’re in. And 15 months later, Ernie’s bees have made themselves completely at home.

So Patrick and I paid a visit to see the bees and figure out the best way to move them out of the house and into a more suitable abode. We arrived to find hundreds of new fliers hovering in orientation flights in front of the wall near the entrance hole. Thousands of others were coming and going, bringing nectar and pollen in as fast as they could carry it, storing up for the winter ahead. This is a healthy, thriving colony.

We also arrived to find Ernie in a different state of mind than when he had first emailed. He has decided, for the time being at least, to leave the bees where they are. They are lovely, non-aggressive girls, quite happy to share the deck and yard with the residents of the house. And Ernie likes seeing them come and go, enjoying the beautiful flowers in his yard and beyond.

As a bee-lover, I’m happy that this strong colony isn’t going to face being evicted with winter on the way. It’s possible to relocate a hive going into cooler weather, but not ideal.

As a homeowner, Ernie’s plan makes me nervous. The physical damage being caused by the presence of the hive is minimal, and he doesn’t seem overly concerned with the prospect of repairing it at some point in the future. Honeybees aren’t termites; they don’t eat wood, so they won’t destroy the structural integrity of the house. And because the colony is up on the second floor, it’s pretty safely removed from ground-walking honey fans like raccoons, which might otherwise do a lot of structural damage trying to get to the honey. But the bees will keep adding on comb and filling it with honey as long as they have room to expand.

My big concern is that, if for some reason the colony doesn’t make it through the winter, Ernie will be left with a wall full of honey, and no bees to protect it. Every mouse and rat within 5 miles will be trying to get to that party, and it could get ugly—and expensive—pretty fast.

Incidentally, this is also why calling an exterminator to get rid of honeybees in your home is a bad idea. They kill the bees, leaving the honey unprotected. Instead of disappearing, your pest problem gets worse. A better solution is to call somebody experienced in bee colony removal. That way you’re saving both the honeybees and your house.

For now, though, Ernie and his bees are happily cohabiting, despite this being a pretty one-sided relationship. As it turns out, Ernie doesn’t even like honey.