All I Want for Christmas is a Hornet's Nest

Yes, you heard me right. A hornet's nest. Ever since seeing one in a display case in a shop in Paducah, I have longed to find one to hang at Farm Dover. 

I'm fascinated by the artistry of these papery nests that look to me like exquisite natural sculptures. I'm not the only one to be struck by these architectural wonders; a New York Times October article stated that these nests were fetching up to $250 for use in interior decor. Don't worry, hornets (technically bald-faced yellowjackts) don't reuse old nests; queens start new ones each spring.  

New colonies are founded by a single overwintered, inseminated queen. She builds a small nest and rears the first generation on her own until they are functional. They, in turn, become workers and assume the chore of expanding the nest to accommodate 400-700 yellowjackets. 

The process of nest building is remarkable. The yellowjackets chew up wood, which mixes with a starch in their saliva. They then spread it around with their mandibles and legs, and it dries into a papery structure. In early fall, the queen bee lays one last clutch of eggs. Once hatched, those new queens and males leave the nest to mate. Fertilized queens then search for a protected place to overwinter, while the old queen and workers that are left behind will eventually freeze to death. So, after a few frosts, it is safe to retrieve the nests responsibly.

This summer, as we were working in the woods near the front of Farm Dover, Ed spotted a nest lodged high up in a silver maple tree. It was nearly impossible to see as it was camouflaged by the leaves. We watched it all summer and waited patiently for the leaves to fall and the freezes to come and kill any remaining bees. 

Earlier this week, Ed took a chainsaw to the maple tree and brought down the nest.

It was far more fragile than either of us anticipated and we had to be gentle hoisting it from the blackberry brambles into which it fell. It was also far more exquisite than I anticipated with beautiful, marbled papery layers forming an outer covering, and multiple tiers of hexagonal combs inside. Support pedestals and columns attached it to the tree. The nest features a single entrance hole. It is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. 

We probably left it up in the tree too long. A week of snow had dampened the paper covering and it wanted to fall apart as we tried to lift it. Still, it is a beautiful artifact. It currently resides on our porch table and I'm looking forward to studying it with our grandchildren and young visitors. Eventually, I'd like to hang it from the porch ceiling. Some people swear that a used nest tricks carpenter bees into thinking that the area is already occupied. And that would be a great way to discourage these bees from commandeering our back porch. 

I hope you get what you want for Christmas.  I know I did! Merry Christmas.