While driving down the turnpike the other day, I heard a sound — 20 simultaneous “whaps.” It sounded like someone had thrown a cup full of ice at my windshield while I was driving 70 miles per hour, except there was nobody around — no bridges overhead, no people on the side of the road, and no cars directly in front of me.
It didn’t take long to notice the two dozen tiny piles of bug guts displayed in front of me. I wasn’t sure what I had hit, but I had hit a bunch of them, and whatever they were, they were big enough to make a distinct “whap” sound when they hit the glass. (And yes, I know what the last thing to go through their mind was.) My windshield was clean right before this took place — everything you see is from that single event.
It was Morgan this morning who solved the mystery — bees. She found the first one stuck in the door jamb, right behind my antenna. I found a second one today, sticking out from the gap below my hood. That appears to be the remains of two dozen more of them on my windshield.
If there’s a little less honey on store shelves in the near future, now you know why.
…………………….the family has a history of bee stories.