Linda M Lawson Margaret G Newkirk Gregory R Dunn Sandra L Haitz Wesley A Cooper Everette F Donell Lady Broncos move to SW District Div. II finals Lady Rockets top Cincy Christian 22-1 to earn berth in district finals Lady Warriors head to SE District Div. III finals with win over Gallia SW District Track and Field Tourney action gets underway Russell E Conn Robert T Fisher Philip L Paeltz David Beals Gregory A Smith II William G Mullinnix Patricia Ogden Brittany Stykes remembered by friends and family 2018 county budget could be cut by up to ten percent Georgetown Police Chief updates council Over 40 vendors, crafters at 2017 Annual Craft Show Cropper’s time as GHS girls basketball coach expected to end after 21 years at the helm Barnes’ perfect game and big hits lead Lady Broncos to round one sectional win Broncos advance in sectional play with win over Mt. Healthy Kenny B Williams Stephen E Marcum Christopher J Lovett Brandon M Traylor Gaslight renovations set to begin Ripley students view mock crash at school ‘Angela’s Curbside Cuisine’ taking area by storm Fisher sentenced to 17 years for child porn possession Fundraiser for Russellville 200th Celebration May 6 Warriors claim SHAC Div. I title in ‘run rule’ fashion Vilvens’ grand slam caps off Lady Rockets’ win over G’town Rockets lead SHAC Div. II at 9-4 WBHS dedicates new softball press box Rodney E Berry Charles D Rice Jr Erma D Painter Alma Cordes Ronald D Latham Some Georgetown School staff members will be armed this fall Local Democrats host Jerry Springer at dinner Chamber of Commerce discusses development Gerald P Morel Lady Broncos capture softball program’s 5th straight SBAAC American Division title Warriors on top in SHAC Division I standings Lady Broncos take first in Western Brown Track Invite Rockets leading way in SHAC Div. II James E Newman Paul E Funk Alan Hanselman Robert V Nash III Frances L Poole Minnie E Fisher Donovan M Pope Irvin E Stiens Myrtle L Lane Ralph L Davidson August J Pace Carl R Brown Phyllis J Beard Lady G-Men complete sweep of Tigers in SBAAC Nat’l Division G-Men pluck Cardinals, 6-4 Warriors climb to 4-1 in SHAC with victory over North Adams Broncos rally in 7th for 5-4 win over Batavia Blue Jays still in search of first win Three million dollar jail expansion planned Higginsport enforcing speed with camera Unemployment rate falls in county, southern Ohio Varnau not restricted from talking online about Goldson case Rockets fall to 4-1 in SHAC with loss to North Adams Bronco tennis team tops Bethel-Tate, 5-0 Lady G-Men rise to 7-4 with win at Goshen Lady Broncos’ big bats hammer out 11-0 win over Batavia G-Men showing improvement Keith Shouse Diane L Steele August Hensley Louise R Murrell Fire strikes Mt. Orab Bible Baptist Church Grant Days 2017 attractions Man accused of sex crime, giving pot to kids Ten indicted by Brown County Grand Jury 5th Annual Rick Eagan Memorial 5K Run/Walk coming up in May Birds of Prey Three sentenced in common pleas court John H Young II Sally A Gibson Barbara Burris Mary Ann Napier Martha L Newland Marlene Thompson Patricia A Firrell Kellie J Berry Mt. Orab, Hamersville students take part in ‘Hoops for Heart’ Eastern players take part in District 14 All-Star Games DeWine meets with local officials Eastern Superintendent praises students accomplishments during board meeting

A close eye on the third hive

It is early evening, but the laundry is not quite dry on the line, so I decide to go out to the bee yard, just for a visit.

I am feeling lazy. It has been a long farm day, so rather than stroll slowly down the back of the row of hives, and visit briefly with each, I decide to take out my folding chair and sit beside Hive Number Three, a particularly active bunch of sister bees who look as though they have a bee super highway leading right to their front porch.

I open my chair and set it in the grass just to the side of the hive. I sit down and see that my toes are right in line with the front of the hive. Perfect.

I settle into my chair listening to the call of countless creek birds up on the hill behind me. Their warbles, chirps and tweets combine into a beautiful evening song.

And it is a beautiful evening.

The low branches of a mulberry tree bend down over my head and fall as a canopy before me. The fruit is long gone, but against the backdrop of the sky, the oval-pointed leaves look translucent, and through the leaves I can see patches of bright blue sky on the far side of the creek. The sky seems to be such a bright blue that I imagine it has been washed clean by the billowing white clouds that sail slowly across it. But I am here to visit the bees.

I look down to the landing board just to my left. It is perhaps 12 inches from my feet. I lean forward for a better look at the returning sisters, all daughters of the laying queen deep inside the hive. I know that I am safe off to the side of the hive. The returning bees are all flying home along a straight flight path, not deviating from their aerial runway that only they can see. When I look out across the field, I can see them 20 feet out and perhaps 10 feet high, turning to their left or right, so they can follow the flight path home.

A line of guard bees greet the returning bees just inside the hive entrance. No bees are leaving the hive to forage this late in the day. The guards briefly touch every returning bee before she is allowed to pass through. Only their sisters may enter.

I watch as another line of bees starts to form just in front of the guards. These bees face backwards and start to fan their wings. They are sending the hive’s scent out into the evening air, signaling their sisters that it is time to return home, the day’s work done.

I try to count the returning bees, but it is an impossible task. It seems as though 10 bees are returning every second, and I wonder how they could all possibly fit inside the hive, but I know that at this time of year there are quite likely 60,000 of the diminutive creatures who all consider that this particular stack of boxes in my bee yard is their home.

I look down the row of hives that lines the upper edge of our upper field. Every hive has a similar highway of returning bees.

I lean forward and peer closer at Number Three. There is a commotion going on at the entrance. Several guards are riding on the back of a drone, one of their brothers, and forcing him to leave. He was likely trying to return home after a day of hanging out on a drone congregation area, waiting for a newly hatched queen to pass by on her maiden flight, but somehow Hive Number Three has decided that their brother drones are no longer needed.

Usually, I do not see such sibling drama until later in the summer, and the solstice was only one week ago, but the guards at Three are quite adamant, and finally the drone turns and takes off from the landing board. He is the only bee flying out along the highway as his countless sisters return.

Then I notice that there is a chill in the air. There are only a few bees returning to the hive, and the backwards fanning bees have returned inside. The upper field is completely in shadow now, and I figure that my laundry has gotten as dry as it is going to get.

So, I fold up my chair, bid my bees good day, and return to the cabin, on my way running my hand along the line of laundry. Yes! It is dry. Now it is time to fold the laundry, cook up some dinner, and follow the lead of my bees, the day’s work done.

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