Got a call from my friendly local police department about a swarm, a big one, they said. I remained skeptical because the first call was for a swarm of wasps -- not bees, did I do them? No, I said, call a pest company.
Ring, ring. . . they are bees, it turns out. One flew into the caller's house. Sigh. I thought to myself, well, of course. Wasps don't swarm.
Drove out there after dinner, and hooray! Another beekeeper was already there. I offed to provide backup, and carried things, etc. The swarm was so high in a tree I wouldn't have been able to get it. He had the patented "five gallon bucket duct taped to an extension pole" toolkit.
The swarm was huge. Truly impressive. He did the bucket under, thwump, approach, and half the swarm fell into the bucket, half on the ground. So many many bees. Once things settled down, I left him to continue coaxing the grounded bees into the box.
The children had been patiently waiting near the car to go get some post-Frisbee ice cream, so I hopped in, started the car and wham! Got stung on the chin.
It seemed so. . . unfair.
No pictures, although it's impressively Dudley Do-Right in size.
I sure hope my buddy got all the bees. And no stings.