Bee Rescue: 911

Beeware of Spiders

The following is a dramatic recreation of actual events. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

Around September, an ever-expanding patch of sedum in the back of my garden begins to bloom. It’s a sad sign that summer is coming to a close, but I always look forward to it for the cloud of hungry pollinators it attracts. After a long day of work, I usually make a bee-line for the sedum to check out what the buzz is. Most often, there are some herds of chubby little bumblebees grazing on it. Occasionally, I’ll see some larger, winged visitors like a Painted Lady butterfly.

In this patch of sedum, I had noticed that an enterprising spider had set up shop and was doing pretty good business. He or she didn’t seem to be missing too many meals. In the time since the sedum had come into bloom, I had seen some near misses, with bees glancing off the web or becoming stuck for a second before being able to free themselves. Phew. The last thing I want to be is a witness to a murder. What if I get called to be a witness and testify? What if the spider has connections to the mob and they come after my family? All valid concerns.

So, one day after work I’m going about my normal routine, checking on my sedum to see what bees are hanging out on it. Everything looks normal at first, until I glance over at where the spider web is. I see the spider, just hanging out, chilling, having a few beers. Normal spider stuff. But in its web, there are two new silken packages. One of them is still moving. Peering through the semi-transparent silk, I can see individual green sweat bees.

Normally, I would let nature take its course. Spiders gotta eat just like the rest of us. But, seeing the one bee still struggling inside its silken coffin yearning to breathe free, I knew I had to act. Thinking quickly, I came up with an elaborate diversion worthy of an Ocean’s Eleven movie, sure to fool the spider and give me enough time to extract its still-living prey.

“Hey, look over there!” I yelled at the spider. Predictably, the spider turned its body (not spilling a drop of the six beers it was holding). As it was distracted, I worked quickly to extricate the struggling sweat bee from the web, while damaging the spider’s web as little as possible. With the tiny bee free of the web, but still encased in silk, I moved on to the more delicate work of freeing the bee without harming it. Now, I could let you imagine a scene where my hands worked in a swift, purposeful manner, without any wasted movement. An assistant mopping sweat from my brow while my attention was laser-focused on my patient. But that wasn’t the case. The reality is that I looked around and found a piece of mulch, delicately scratched at the webbing with it, and eventually my little buddy was freed.

Wanting to make sure it was okay, I asked it “Are you okay?” After not receiving a response, I asked slightly louder, thinking maybe it was hard of hearing or still dazed from its ordeal. “ARE YOU OKAY?” It tilted its head slightly and stared back at me, its body language seeming to indicate “Yes, I am okay. Thanks to you, friend. You may now take pictures and video of me for your future blog.”

What a bee.

Below is a video of the immediate aftermath of the rescue, as well as some photos.

 

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