Read by Matilda Longbottom

From the moment we laid eyes on our quirky 1800s farmhouse with its sprawling barn and picturesque five-acre property, my husband Henry and I knew we were in for an adventure. Little did we anticipate that our journey would involve unexpected bee tenants and a charming twist of fate.

The barn, a weathered three-story beauty with turnbuckles preserving its history, became the epicenter of our dreams. As we settled into our new home amid the chaos of a global pandemic, the barn’s walls echoed with the hum of activity, revealing a surprising and heartwarming story.

In the early days, as we tackled repairs and dreamt of raising bees, an occasional humming in the barn became a mystery we couldn’t ignore. Concerned for safety, we embarked on a quest to uncover the source of the sound. Little did we know, an industrious colony of bees had taken up residence, turning a section of the barn into their buzzing haven.

Cue the Kennebec Beekeepers Association, our unexpected allies in beekeeping. With the help of a seasoned beekeeper, we embarked on a bee-relocation mission, discovering a treasure trove of honey and brood within the barn’s walls. The bees were relocated, the honey shared, and the barn sealed up – our woodshop dreams finally taking shape.

Fast-forward to the following year, and we were ready for our own bees. Armed with Layens hives and a Canadian-Italian duo of nucs, we embarked on a beekeeping odyssey that included unexpected twists and turns. The resilient Canadian bees, with their tough demeanor, eventually claimed victory, leaving us with more honey than expected.

However, the joy was short-lived. One day, our thriving colony vanished without a trace, leaving us baffled and determined to try again next year.

And try again we did. This Summer, a serendipitous moment unfolded as we discovered a steady stream of bees making their way from our garden to a familiar hole in the barn. Our missing bees had returned, turning the barn into a hive of activity once more.

As the season waned, we let our newfound friends “bee,” observing their dance between flowers and hive. In October, we found the last of them, basking in the sun on a thistle blossom. With Winter approaching, they peacefully entered dormancy.

Good night, little bees. Until Spring arrives, when we’ll need to have a serious conversation about your living arrangements. ❖