Today marks one week since we found bees in our apartment. My sister, Bryn, and I moved in the Wednesday before school started. On Thursday Bryn discovered a bee buzzing by our bedroom light. She called me for back-up. (Like I know anything about bee removal!) When I got there I discovered the bees (yes, more than one by this time) were only worried about our light and completely ignored us — the human invaders of their territory. Using a garbage can and my book list, I trapped a couple and let them go outside. But it didn't help. Bees were still flying around our room. I decided that we should leave them alone and see what would happen. We disappeared into our living room, shutting the bedroom door behind us. When we ventured back into our room the bees were on the floor. Most were dead. One or two were trying to move. I used my book list to shovel up the bees, both dead and alive, and dropped them under some plants in the front yard. We were bee-free for the rest of the day.
Each day since we've seen bees. Dead ones and live ones. (Except for Tuesday. We only saw dead ones that day.) I disposed of the dead ones with my book list and tried to save the live ones by putting them outside, hoping they'd get revived by the fresh outside air. Finally, on Monday night I told our landlords. I'd held off until then because I didn't want the bees to die. They weren't hurting us. They actually didn't even seem to notice we were their neighbours. But I finally decided that the landlords needed to know. So now they know, but they haven't done anything about the bees yet.Secretly, I'm rather pleased. I foresee bee poetry in my near future.
Photos
Top left: Apparently this bee likes Creative Writing textbooks.
Bottom right: Trying (and succeeding) to pet a bee without getting stung requires much concentration.
