Humor me while I write the latest chapter in Marcia's affliction with hives.
As you may recall I was whining about my third swarm of the season, and had
two of them dangling in my huge fir tree. After days of dreary weather, this
morning dawned crisp and promising. I could feel the energy in the air
before I got out of bed. The fir and its two glittering ornaments were
bathed in golded light and framed by deep blue sky.
 
Mid morning I checked the status of  my original colony and new nuc. The nuc
had a single queen cell remaining and small but active work force. No sign
of eggs so that cell is my best shot. In the original colony, as I examined
the middle frame in the lower box, I spotted the one remaining queen cell.
Her little royal head was poking out and she was getting a warm welcome from
her subjects. I EVER so carefully placed her frame back in its slot and
closed the hive. The weather was perfect for a bit of airborne passion. I
hoped she'd seize the day.
 
Mollified, I went inside and tried to get some work done. At noon, I gave in
to temptation and again looked out the window for my bee football in the
tree. It was missing! I stepped into the yard and the air was electric with
bees circling and buzzing overhead. I tried to find a nucleus by listening
for the most intense buzzing, but was hampered by ill timed airplanes and
noisy farm machinery. So I had to follow them by sight. I ended up running
across neighbor's yards, hurtling fences and crossing country lanes until I
found the swarm circling over a barn four farms down the road. They grow
Christmas trees on this land and I watched the bees circle for several
minutes, then settle into a small, squat fir Christmas tree.
 
I raced home, jumped into my suit and rubber boots, grabbed veil and gloves
and the only supers available--two honey supers that I had set out yesterday
with a full feeder suspended from the upper one into the lower.  I had
enough adrenaline pumping by that time that I tried to run down the road
with all of this stuff and slopped sugar water all over my coveralls. By the
time I arrived, I must have looked pretty scary and I had to negotiate with
the 7-year-old standing guard in the driveway. After much explaining to both
him and his mom, I headed up to the little fir tree and set the hive boxes
down. The bees immediately started lapping up the spilled sugar water and
before long, most of them were in the box and the initial roar was down to a
low hum. They are surrounded by thick white clover, and there they shall
stay for now.
 
So, what was once a swarming single colony seems to now be three colonies,
two with freshly hatched queens, one eagerly anticipating her arrival.
Thanks to all of you for not letting me give up. This has been a most
amazing day.