Bee Wise
By Sheila Moss, San Fernando Branch
“I would suggest a bee bath,” intoned Bill Rogers, a bee apiarist from Lancaster.
“A what?” I said.
“It’s exactly what it sounds like. Collecting pollen is thirsty work. By making a bee bath you’ll help our fuzzy friends stay hydrated and avoid a crash landing in deep water where they can drown. All you have to do is find a long, low pan and fill it with pebbles and corks. The corks allow the bees to stay afloat while they drink the water,” he admonished.
Last summer we were inundated by bees — in the spa and in the waterfall. Only my twelve-year-old grandson was brave enough to go swimming. Hiring an exterminator was not an option. I knew the bees were protected. Besides, they were important for pollinating my tomatoes and flowers. One apiarist told me that without bees we could say goodbye to chocolate and coffee. Perish that thought!
The LA County agriculture department offered another solution. Find the hive. Well, it wasn’t near any eaves or walls of our house. One man suggested it could be up in ET Park. Yes, there is the park Steven Spielberg used for his movie ET. Bill Rogers warned, “You may find more than one wild bee hive but you won’t be able to tell which one could be yours.”
My next-door neighbor also had a bee problem. After he and his son checked all over without luck, he announced he would make his famous BBQ chicken. “OMG, they’re in here!” he exclaimed. “The hive is in the BBQ! I’m calling 411.”
Carefully, he and his son wheeled the grill to the curb, assured someone from the agriculture department would pick it up in the morning.
I contacted several bee organizations: Want Bees, Bee Removal, and Eco Friendly Bee Removal. Fortunately, there was no fee for an inspection. All three men were courteous but not too hopeful. “We have to find the hive. No hive; no freedom from the bees.”
“Bees are protected and they are endangered,” Gene from Eco Friendly emphasized.
My only alternative was the Bee Bath.
The line was drawn. Either you have a hive on the premises or you don’t.
If you don’t, you go with Plan B — a Bee Bath to lure them away
I cleaned off my long rectangle pan, rinsed the pebbles, added my son’s marble collection and floated my fleet of corks. I was told to position the pan facing north in a quiet shady spot. At first, I observed the bee bath from the kitchen window. Then I tried spying from the comfort of the patio. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
The only visitor was one of my resident squirrels. He seemed intrigued with the glitter from the marbles. Oh, yes! A crow dive-bombed the pan and delicately scooped up one of the Spumante corks.
Do you hear them? The incessant buzzing of honeybees. Landing on the side of the waterfall, hovering by the flat surface, dancing in pairs and gracefully claiming their territory. And yes, there were some dead soldiers whose precarious perches ended in downing.
My story ends with a lesson: Give up. Let the bees alone and they will return the favor. Besides, as my friend Penny remarked, “If you were a bee, wouldn’t you prefer the gorgeous stoned stack waterfall to a dinky Bee Bath?”