The Bees Will Be Sad

Yesterday, I made a startling discovery on my way to the river. Part of  the huge basswood tree was down, almost blocking the path.  Beau sensed that something was amiss. The tree's massive horizontal branch must have reached a critical weight and broken off. I couldn't get close on account of the poison ivy, but a glimpse through the fallen branches revealed the spot where it used to be. I could be mistaken, but it looked like the tree was hollow there.

If it is hollow, my concern is the bees may decide to move in because it's so close to food shopping. I can only hope that my springtime sugar syrup will induce them to stay where they are. Pay no attention to that ideal bee tree, I say.

There will be lots of basswood firewood for me to cut next winter, but that will be small recompense for losing some of my special honey crop and the inevitable decline of the tree. Oh well, these things happen. The bees are very clever. Probably they know of other basswood trees in the many miles of choice locations along the Grand River. That surely can't be the only one.

At the hive this morning, the bees had gathered on the landing board and the hive front. I tiptoed away, not wishing to disturb a memorial service for the fallen tree limb.