Okay so today I wanna show you what hornet nests actually look like up close, right? Because I swear, everyone thinks they’re just big scary paper balls, but nah, there’s way more going on. This whole thing started ‘cause my neighbor Ted kept freaking out about “giant bee monsters” near his shed. Dude, they’re hornets, calm down. Figured I’d go check it out myself and get some pictures.
The Gear Grab
First things first, I ain’t playing kamikaze. Went digging in my garage for the bee suit I swore I bought after that yellowjacket incident last summer. Found it buried under a pile of empty plant pots – classic. Suited up, felt like an astronaut, but sweaty. Grabbed my DSLR camera, the one with the decent zoom (‘cause getting too close is asking for trouble), slapped on my longest lens, packed an extra memory card, and filled a spray bottle with soapy water. Why soapy water? If things go really south, a quick spray can mess up their flight. Old beekeeper trick. Probably. Or I saw it on YouTube. Whatever.
The “Approach” (More Like Stalking)
Walked over to Ted’s shed, trying to move quiet but sounding like a crinkly astronaut in a trash bag suit. Took me a minute to spot it. Nest wasn’t huge, maybe a basketball size, tucked up under the shed’s eaves. Saw maybe three hornets buzzing around the entrance, kinda lazy. Perfect. Or so I thought.
Set up maybe 15 feet back, feeling pretty brave. Crouched down, aimed the camera, zoomed all the way in. Took like five shots. Reviewed ’em… totally blurry. The little buggers were moving! And my hands were shaky. Duh. Needed a better plan.
Operation “Hold Still Please”
Walked back to my own shed (slowly!), found an old tripod covered in spiderwebs. Blew off the cobwebs, muttered apologies to the spiders. Carried it back like it was a bazooka. Set it up closer this time, maybe 10 feet away? My heart was pounding a bit. Mounted the camera, set the timer so my shaking wouldn’t mess it up. Waited. Hornets were cruising in and out. One landed on the lens hood – almost dropped the whole setup. Super freaky watching its big face right through the viewfinder.
Snapped the shots. Checked the camera screen:
- First shot: Pretty decent! Saw the entrance hole clearly, a couple of hornets crawling on the edge, the layers of the nest paper looking all gnarly and grey-brown, sorta like dirty cardboard rolled up.
- Second shot: Got one taking off! Wings all spread, legs dangling. Looked fast even frozen.
- Third shot: Total mess, hornet flew right past as the shutter clicked.
Good enough! But honestly? Being that close, hearing their buzz right in my ears through the suit hood? Yeah, the creep factor is real. Felt sweat dripping down my back.
The “Hasty Retreat”
Started packing up the tripod. Went to unscrew the camera first… fumbled it. Dropped the freaking lens cap. It bounced right near the nest entrance. Silence. Then, a couple of hornets immediately zoomed out, hovering low like, “You wanna try something, pal?” My slow-motion escape walk back to my yard felt like miles. Didn’t run, just booked it with purpose back to safety.
So, What Did We Learn?
Got the pics! Told Ted, showed him the good shot on the camera. His eyes got huge, like he still expected giant monsters. The key details? That nest paper texture – rougher than you’d think, not smooth paper. You can see individual strands, chewed wood pulp probably. The entrance hole? Surprisingly neat, usually just one opening tucked away. And seeing the hornets themselves frozen mid-flight? Their bodies are segmented, striped yellow and black, legs hanging down… honestly looks sorta cool, if it wasn’t trying to sting you. It’s way different seeing it frozen in a photo than seeing a blur zoom past your head.
Would I do it again? Maybe? Definitely needed the suit, the tripod saved me, and never ever drop your lens cap near the action. Just don’t. Ted’s getting the pros out next week. Can’t blame him. My photos are neat, but zero regrets letting them handle it!