With my last name of Swarm, as you might expect, I’m used to a lot of references to  bees. Growing up, I was known as Bee Swarm, or just plain Bee. 

When my parents had their 50th wedding anniversary, with all the kids, grandkids, and great grandkids in attendance, their cake said, “50 Years of Making Honey.”  When I tell someone my name, especially over the phone, and they say, “Huh?” I just say, “Swarm, as in swarm of bees.” “Oh.”

So, it wasn’t all that surprising when I got a phone call from a farmer over by New London telling me that he had the strangest bee hive, and that I just had to see it.  (Plus, I have a byline at the end of my weekly column, asking for stories.)