A few days ago, I was stung. Badly. By multiple mean bald face hornet stinging machines. It’s a good thing that I live off the beaten path, as any nearby neighbors would have seen me running while stripping off clothes and heard an unholy string of profanities that was being unleashed, loudly, while I ran. Several months ago a nest was begun, on an old internet satellite dish that still resides on the once living space turned chicken coop/work shop. My general policy about such things is to let them be, it’s all nature right….until a problem occurs. However, this nest was forming directly over the chicken coop door. Everyday, twice a day, as I let the chickens out in the morning and closed them in for the night, I negotiated the bald face hornet zone. I moved slowly, raised and lowered the board that serves as the door calmly and carefully and while occasionally stirring up a few hornets, seemed to have worked out a system. Neither of us were happy about the others presence, but the you don’t mess with me and I won’t mess with you policy seemed to be working.

Until this week. I don’t know what changed, but the MFBFHB’s (and no, this is not an acronym for My Favorite Best Friend Hornet Buddies) were not pleased with my presence. The détente was over. As I slowly and carefully raised the door board, BAM, nailed in the back, causing me to drop the board on the poor chickens neck who was just trying to get out for the day, and further angering the other MFBFHB’s.  Bam..again….and again. Now I am running, clothes coming off, profanities flying.  BAM and BAM… a few more stings, just for good measure. I suppose it could have been worse, but really, it was not the way I wanted to start my day. I was awake now!

To take a step back, these little hornet bastards, the MFBFHB’s, (the “live-and-let-live, just part of nature” went out the window when they attacked) were not the only woodland neighbors I had to worry about. My morning chicken duties usually consist of me walking down to chicken coop and yard, in my not quite awake yet mode, wearing some crazy form of dress from random sleep wear to professional workday clothes, with an odd flannel work shirt and chicken yard shoes thrown in. This particular morning, I had on a dark blue lacy sleep tank and shorts, clearly not adequate MFBFHB armor. And not only that, but in my subsequent research on these stingers I learned they don’t like dark blues or bright colors; better to wear tan and light-colored items. Note to self – next time don’t dress to piss off the hornets in the morning.

My morning and evening walks down to the chicken yard had become “The Gauntlet” this summer. I swear that I must have every kind of stinging insect living near by. Paper wasps, bald face hornets, yellow jackets, ground wasps, carpenter bees, honey bees, mud daubers and an assortment of others I don’t yet know. On my front door, a mud dauber was building its nest, I often could hear the buzzing as it worked inside it’s mud hut. At the top of the hill is a ground wasp nest, which thus far has been easy to avoid, but certainly must remember it is there. And then there are the snakes. One night on my way back up the hill, I heard a slight rustle in the grass. It was quite subtle and I don’t know why it caught my attention, but I looked over in the dusky light to see a Copperhead, well camouflaged, just to the side of the trail. It was on this same hill the previous year that I had seen several Copperheads, one of which had bitten my new little pup, and was then killed by me….but that’s another story.

For night-time chicken duties, I wear a headlamp, and after seeing the Copperhead, sometimes carry a big stick and always constantly scan the terrain for snakes. While winter has its own challenges, I almost miss those easy breezy days of just walking without constant vigilance and ground scanning for things that could bite, sting or hurt me or my kid or my dog friends.

So now the dilemma. What was I going to do about this situation? While the pain from the stings slowly subsided, I did what I always do and started the research. I didn’t necessarily want to kill anything and the main way of managing trouble nests, with powerful spray pesticides, was also not my favored option since this was right above my chicken yard. I learned about the colors to wear and not wear. I learned how to dress for battle, to deal with it at dusk or night when they were less active, but for god’s sake don’t shine your flashlight right at them, and really you probably should just get a professional to deal with it.  I also learned that the MFBFHB’s, when not located in a place that causes us humans problems are beneficial in many ways. They are beneficial predators of other insects and if you’ve ever had occasion to examine an old, abandoned nest, they are rather magnificent.  When I  think of all that they do to create them, one tiny, chewed-up woody-material mouthful at time, it is rather amazing.  Hell, I’ve had old abandoned nests as decoration before.

I wrestled with what to do all day. I couldn’t even imagine going back down there, they most certainly had my attention now, but the chickens needed to go in and out.  Leaving the door open, in the past, had led to some serious flock losses – those chickens have their own list of predators. The door had to be opened and closed, and the chickens fed and I had to do this without being stung repetitively.

So what, in the end, did Miss I love nature and try to be natural all the time do? I bought the    pesticide, the kind that you can spray from up to 25 feet away:  it even came in a handy cost saving 2-pack. That night, I followed all the guidance I had read and armed myself to do battle. Carhart work pants, thick wool socks and boots, pants tucked into socks….check. Long sleeve heavy army shirt, with another long sleeve TAN colored work shirt on top of that just for good measure, buttoned from neck to bottom…check. One wool cap…no, that’s not enough, add another cap and safety glasses…check. Finally, good work gloves were added to the ensemble. This was not appropriate summer wear, and I’m sure I was a sight to behold, but I defied any hornet to find access to my body this night. It was dark when I went down there, but I dared not turn on my headlamp. The moon lit the night enough that I could see alright, and I knew exactly where the nest and entrances were so I let ’em have it.  I sprayed and sprayed some more, soaking the nest as per directions. Seemingly nothing happened; it was all rather anti-climactic with only a few hornets flying in and out. Trudged back up the hill, this time slowly taking off layers of protective wear and wondering if I had done the right thing or anything at all.

In my recent visits, there still seem to be a few buzzing around, but I think the damage has been done. This weekend I will knock the nest down, dressed again in battle gear, just in case, and dispose of it properly. The chickens will be able to come and go and I will not have to risk welts, stings and pain to care for them. Still have to watch for snakes, and ground wasps  – oh cool days of fall I will welcome your arrival. I hated using chemicals, and destroying the nest. On its own, in a place not associated with my dwellings, these nests are actually works of art and beauty. I hated destroying, just like I hated killing the snake last year, but sometimes I have found, on the homestead you just have to do these things. Through it all, I still try to maintain and appreciate a reverence for nature and life. Not every bald-faced hornets nest or snake is to be feared and destroyed.  Each serves a purpose and has a place in the environment and most of the time I do believe we can coexist.