Covered in greenbrier and shaded in the corner of the garden by the last of the fall leaves was an old forgotten bee house.
Instead of buying bees to make a full house, I had gambled that a wild queen might find her way to this wooden home-- guided by the forces that rule such a queen-- but she never showed up.
The Exterior
Nary a buzz coming from the old house, I moved it to the center of the lawn for inspection.
A window shutter blocks the light from the interior, giving the queen and her drones some privacy. The latches still worked, and I loosened one side.
Ants?
While the non-bee insects scattered, I removed the roof for a look inside:
These wooden slats in the ceiling are supposed to remain perfectly level so that the bees will build their combs along the ridges, and the pieces can theoretically be pulled out individually to harvest honey.
A wasp seemed to understand the design
Back to the window, the insects had not scattered, and with a closer look, these 'ants' turned out to be flying ants, or what we call termites around here.
The Bee-house Project
As part of a community project, a group of us got together and pitched in on the supplies to build a dozen of these houses, and we all kept a house-- the plan being to have bee houses all over the farm.
Later it was discovered that the climate here is perhaps a bit too cold for this type of bee house. Now I can see why: the floor of the house is just mesh screen, offering no insulation from the cold.
Possible Modifications
To make this house more hospitable to my wild wandering queen bee, it may help to take the legs off of the house and set the whole thing on top of a stone foundation so that the wind can't get through the floor.
The roof is just a sheet of tin, it could probably use some protective insulation as well, making it thicker and warmer like a hollow tree.
The house should be placed in a location that is shaded while allowing a little morning sun to warm it up on colder non-summer days, and with luck, a wandering queen bee might be told about this dreamy Ozark castle.
Maybe next year my wild queen will find her way home, and then I'll need a bee whisperer to persuade her finicky highness to part with a small taste of honey, if it pleases her.
