Wild life | 11 January 2018

Kenya

 First comes a distant hum, rising in volume until I hear it coming straight at me like Niki Lauda behind the wheel of his Ferrari. The blue sky darkens. I duck as swarming bees zoom overhead, trailing their queen. They are gone again in a second, coiling off in a shadowy murmuration across the veldt. After the rains, several swarms hurtle over us daily looking for homes, criss-crossing in the air. When bees nest in our farmstead walls we leave them be. Anybody who has had bees live under the eaves will know how cosy it is to lie in bed at night, listening to the soporific thrum of countless beating wings. When bees swarm in the kitchen or chimney, burning two or three large turds of desiccated elephant dung produces a cloud of smoke with the aroma of incense, Montecristo and pachyderm bowel — and the insects swiftly vacate. Laikipia is honey country.