‘All quiet on the nesting front, honey.’

With only a couple more weeks to go with incubation our female bird has surpassed expectations in her commitment to brooding. Bathed in bright sunlight and open to every breeze that blows she has been diligently turning the eggs and keeping them alternately warm or shaded by lifting her body up or snuggling down. Unring, as we would expect has been keeping them both supplied with fish as well as taking his turn with daytime sitting.

As Spring warmth has been seeping into the bones of the earth insects are now waking up or hatching out in their myriads. A dull rumble filled the air late one afternoon last week – another Chinook approaching up the valley perhaps? But no, the rumble took on a more sizzling tone, reverberating closer at hand and directly above. For a moment or two the sun lost its radiance and our black shadows faded as if a cloud was passing. We all stared up as a swarm of bees undulated through the tops of the pines, each individual weaving its own way to avoid collision with its sisters and the waving branches, following their Queen to a new home.

A swarm of bees in May is worth a load of hay.                                                                A swarm of bees in June is worth a silver spoon.                                                             A swarm in July isn’t worth a fly.

Sadly, they passed too quickly for us to follow, so we missed out on the load of hay!

 

A weary worker, left behind.