Why
are there hornets and wasps and bees outside the window a few
feet to my left?
Yes,
there’s a bit more involved in the thought. I’m not actually wondering
about wasps and bees and planning massive activities to prevent
their invasion. But…
That
window is actually a sliding glass door, and it leads to an elevated
deck in the back yard. Over the years we’ve been here, it seems
like there are always a few creatures zooming around with the
ability to sting me if they so desired. Especially during the
nice weather. But this time it’s different. They almost seem not
like they’re visiting or investigating the scenery, rather that
they have arrived at where they want to be. And…
I
have no clue why.
Flowers?
Nope. Absolutely no plants or flowers or anything growing of any
kind except the lawn.
A
hive or nest or whatever being built in the eaves of the roof
or support beams under the deck? Nope. Looked. Not even a sign
of construction from years before, and nothing new or active in
progress.
Trees
are a decent distance beyond the fence line, and there’s no standing
water, and… and… I’ve looked. I’ve looked here and there and up
and down and I’m tired of looking.
They
haven’t stung me, and there’s zero sign of anything being built
on/around/inside the house, so I’m not overwhelmingly concerned.
But their presence means I see them, and that means I think about
it. Think about it when I’m sitting on the deck. Think about it
when I’m walking in the yard. Think about it when I look out the
window.
Remember
those old maps, with the fancy picture of a sea monster and some
type of -here-be-dragons notation? Occasionally I wish we could
swirl those maps together with a little bit of Iron Man’s computer
technology. Ask why there are hornets or bees outside and find
out that the smell coming from the grill is attracting them, or
that the table should have been wiped down better because there’s
still lemonade on it. Even just markers that may not provide an
answer, but at least offer a bit of signage for where to look.
That
would bring some peace of mind to the entire thing. And, maybe
a way of finding an answer. Break out the power washer, scrub
a dub dub, and no more wasps. Easy.
But
no. Life doesn’t seem to work that way. There are no dragons noted
on the blueprints of my deck. And my college degree doesn’t focus
on the activity of bumble or honey or yellow jacket bees. Not
one of the visitors seems to care about the grill or table. It’s
something else, and it could just be a strong population of the
flying nuisances all over the neighborhood.
A
few years ago, in mid-September at a different house, I began
noticing a string of bees flying in the front yard. And by string,
I mean it was an organized flight pattern that any airport would
be proud to have circling its runways. The spacing between them
was well-timed, and approach and departure lanes toward a specific
shrub. Turns out…
There
was a small hole worn in the foliage on the shrub. Big enough
to be obvious as soon as you saw it, but amazingly inconspicuous
if you weren’t looking for it. One after another, a bee would
zip along and enter or exit the hole.
A
week later, before I needed to do anything, two days of killing-frost-level
temperature drops had made certain that airport was no longer
in business. The flights to that shrub never returned.
I’m
standing outside on a beautiful day. Why are there hornets and
wasps and bees around?
I
may never know.