The calls of the wild and … ground bees

Friday night, as I let my dogs out for their last romp of the night, I heard the coyotes yipping and howling, calling to each other. It was symphonic as they spoke and there seemed to be multiple packs of them as the noise came from every direction around my house. I imagined their nocturnal hunting was just getting underway and wondered if the coyotes in Millbrook were as active, and if they would be laying down a good scent for the hounds to follow the next day. The numbers of coyote are on the increase. The State University of New York College of Environmental Science and Forestry puts their population in New York at between 20,000 and 30,000. I think some of them have crossed the border into Lakeville.At 6 a.m., I let my dogs out again and watched, as I do every morning, as they ran back and forth in elaborate figure eights in the field behind my house, following their noses and the scent of whatever wildlife passed through in the previous eight hours. I can’t tell from watching my dogs what they’re smelling; could be deer, bear, coyote, bobcat, turkey, fox — I’ve seen them all in my neighborhood, but it always gives me pleasure, watching my dogs’ instincts at work. Just as I get pleasure from listening to the coyotes sing as they set out for their night’s meal.With those images and sounds fresh in my head, I headed to the Saturday morning meet of the Millbrook Hunt. The start time was at 8 a.m., an hour later than the week before. It seemed as though the day was well under way, the sun was fully up, and the dew was already drying as the horses, riders and hounds gathered in a field. We set off. The hounds ran silently, dashing in and out of the brush, but there was nothing to arouse their interest.Down a road, into the woods, across a stream, by a swamp, up a hill, jump a low fence, single file alongside the corn, back into the woods. It was a quiet day. The only activity were the bees — ground bees — that seem so active in September. We walked for an hour before we all came to a standstill in the woods as Donald Philhower, the huntsman, regrouped the hounds.As my fellow foot-follower, Kelly Morgan, and I walked along, we wondered if there was some way to figure out where a ground nest would be. It seemed obvious that it wouldn’t be in mud, but what conditions were ideal for a nest? From our observations, the nests always seemed to be on a path or well-traveled trail, often in the woods, but seldom in the fields or open pastures. Two weeks before, Morgan had been stung in three places on her hand, when we were swarmed.When I got home I did an Internet search, but much of the information was in conflict with our experiences. Ground bees I read, were most active in the spring (we only ever encounter them in the fall). Ground bees are docile and unlikely to attack (the ones we met were persistently ferocious).Further reading suggested that what we were dealing with wasn’t bees at all — more likely yellow jackets or wasps, two insects that have few defenders.While we often catch sight of large wasp nests hanging high off a tree branch, the indicators of a ground nest are few and far between. They look similar to an anthill. You might notice a bee or two flying just above ground level (although not if you’re on horseback or trotting along on foot.) Ground bees, I’ve concluded are just one more hazard of an active outdoor life — not desirable but entirely worth the risk.Tara Kelly is a rider and a writer. She has been a member of the Millbrook Hunt for eight years, and is also a former copy editor for The Millerton News.