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Male Siskin contemplates the rain at World Bee Sanctuary. Clare-Louise Donelan
endless rain
The Bee Guy This rainy season has nearly washed us away
A broken tractor, flooded fields and a perfect storm of bad timing left World Bee Sanctuary fighting for survival — until pride gave way to a request for help.
LAST UPDATE | 2 Mar
31 OCTOBER 2025. The deer fence is up.
One thousand native trees are prepped and ready to go.
Willow whips harvested from trees around the sanctuary are freshly cut and in buckets of water. We’re going to create another mini woodland.
The date has been set for people to come down and make light work of the task – Thursday, 6 November.
The spades are lined up against the old shed wall. The big soup pot hangs from the hook, ready to be filled with the ingredients that will warm the fingers and hearts of the tree planters back in the poly tunnel as they chatter and smile and glow in the satisfaction of having created a new little piece of good.
A new little woodland. That will stand and thrive and protect and do good long after their chatter has quieted.
Just one job left to do. A quick run over the area to cut the grass back to make the planting a little easier. Up into the old Ford 6610. Twist the key in the ignition.
Nothing.
Crap.
There’s rain due tonight.
Come on. Start.
Nothing.
She’s at an age now where she has days when she just doesn’t fancy it. No sense to it. No predictability.
Just not doing any work today, Bee Guy. You know it. I know it. No point in getting up in a heap about it. We’ll take another look at the situation tomorrow.
Yeah… I talk to tractors… It’s a habit.
Then, the rain comes. Old 6610 starts two days later, 2 November.
We give it a shot, the grass cutting, but it’s too late. The wet season is here.
Not winter. Not cold. Not frost. The wet season.
Endless, endless rain
And as I write – the back end of February – it’s still here.
The soup pot hangs dry. The spades still stand against the wall.
The trees huddle yet in the bags. Willow whips have started sprouting in the buckets. Buds peaking out. The deer fence stands in the puddled soil with nothing to protect.
Waiting. Waiting. For the rain to stop.
It has rained incessantly here.
Heavier. Quicker.
Constant.
And somewhere within the deluge came the perfect storm. The perfect storm of circumstance and unfortunate events left us struggling to keep our heads above the rising water.
Maybe that idea that there would be a place for bees, native wild bees, a pure space, in which the barn owls could thrive safely, the frogs could spawn in clear waters, and the red squirrels could watch from trees safe from chainsaws, maybe that idea would fade into the damp darkness beneath the grey skies.
Old 6610, well, she’s not talking to me much at all these days.
The various pieces of equipment vital to maintain the place all need a little bit of expert TLC.
A prospective funder that we had been talking to long before the rains started got spooked by global uncertainty – what happens in America doesn’t stay in America – and they got cold feet.
And us? Well, our feet just got wetter.
We’re down a half-mile entrance lane. Rough at the best of times. Prone to flooding due to development and man-made changes in the local ecosystem. But this year…
Well, folks, we could have a brand new waterway for the maps. A foot and a half deep on bad days. So we can’t welcome visitors. Even if they did brave the laneway rapids, the poor fields are too hazardous underfoot for the uninitiated.
No income. No real choices. No more sanctuary.
It was heartbreaking.
Good intentions don’t pay the bills, unfortunately.
‘Don’t give up’
Then one of the young ‘uns spoke up.
“Tell people. Ask for help.”
“People love this place. Love the idea of it. Love bees.”
“Feck your pride. Ask.”
Embarrassed, we did.
And then, something amazing happened.
You showed that you do, love bees, too. Love the idea of the sanctuary.
The rain still falls.
But your caring shines through.
And it’s looking like the queen bees hibernating here will emerge at least this year once more, to fly and hum amongst the wildflowers, in the safe, protected place that is the World Bee Sanctuary.
Thank you.
Paul Handrick, The Bee Guy is the co-founder of the first and only true native wild bee sanctuary on the planet – The Bee Sanctuary. You can become a Patron of or donate to World Bee Sanctuary: https://worldbeesanctuary.org/ Sanctuary GoFundMe.
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