Hypnotic patterns of a bee that is heading north
I HAVE recently moved into a new house and discovered we are blessed with two colonies of bees in residence.
The first is in the garden, on the corner of the shed and outdoor loo (it is Yorkshire, after all). The second is in the eaves of the roof facing out to the street, just above the window where I write.
Our new neighbours keep coming round to welcome us to the street, and inquire gently: “Do you know you have a wasp’s nest on your roof?”
But instead, I am reliably informed, that they are tree bumblebees: tawny brown thorax, black abdomen, and a white bob tail like an Easter bunny.
This particular species of bumblebee only turned up in Britain in 2001 – in Wiltshire – and is slowly spreading north.
The hundred or so drones swirling outside do so in the hope a virgin queen may emerge from the nest with whom they can mate.
It is hypnotic to watch the complex patterns these bees weave, like a natural lava lamp. And more still, it is fascinating to see how the weather dictates their behaviour.
With the sweltering heat of recent days, the colony seems to have doubled in size and the bees stream up and down my window like a waterfall.
When it is cooler, the bees seem to all but disappear.
When I watch them I think how similar their behaviour in the sun is to our own, rushing out together to parks, beaches and gardens to feel the shared joy of heat on our skin.
They will not be happy to learn, then, that this glorious spell is set to be interrupted this weekend by the odd storm and thundery shower and generally fresher temperatures all round – although in between that the sun will keep shining for many.
Not ideal for bees, but for the rest of us it is certainly still the weather to stay out of the hive.