There comes a moment in May when the anticipation of fresh spring greenery gives way to a duller summer hue. The oak trees lose their lustre, and a lack of rain only deepens the sense of loss. But abruptly, a rising hum, almost mechanical, breaks the stillness. Looking up, I see a mass of insects flowing over the hawthorn line—a honeybee swarm.
A Swarm in the Plum Tree
The bees swirl in a cloud before the queen lands, triggering a leisurely implosion. Guided by pheromones, thousands of worker bees join her to form a solid ball, hanging precariously from a plum tree twig. To the uninitiated, a swarm of tens of thousands of stinging insects can cause panic. However, having split from the mother colony as part of reproduction, the swarm is focused solely on finding a new home and poses no threat unless provoked. Left alone, they will depart within days.
An Opportunity for the Beekeeper
For a beekeeper, a settled swarm is a golden opportunity to fill a hive, especially in early summer when there is ample time to establish and become productive. As the old rhyme goes, "A swarm in May is worth a load of hay." I once tested this by selling honey from a May swarm hive, and the proceeds literally bought me a trailer full of hay bales.
Hiving an accessible swarm is surprisingly simple. Without bothering to get my bee suit—a slightly reckless behaviour I cannot advise—I approach the insects with a wicker basket and secateurs. Holding the basket beneath them, I cut the supporting twig, and the bees drop in with a weighty jolt. I promptly close the lid. In my apiary, a prepared hive awaits, with a white cloth serving as a ramp to the entrance. I empty the docile bees onto the cloth, and they dutifully crawl up into their new home. I just hope they like it and decide to stay.
