Thirty thousand unhappy bees dangled over downtown Minneapolis Monday morning.
Far below, equally unhappy pedestrians watched chunks of honeycomb tumble down onto the south plaza of the Hennepin County Government Center as the swarm tried to set up housekeeping in the brittle branches of a sumac tree beside bustling 3rd Avenue South.
That's when a lone figure, swaddled in beekeeper white, rolled to the rescue in the back of a boom truck.
"I'm trying to safely remove the hive so we can relocate it, so it doesn't fall on anyone's head," said Misty Hoffman, an interior designer for the county by day and an amateur beekeeper, also by day.
It's swarm season in Minnesota, when honeybees fan out in search of new homes.
Sometimes, they pick the wrong neighborhood.
As the truck hoisted Hoffman high in the air, she reached out with her improvised honeybee moving van — a cardboard box taped to a long pole.
Carefully, carefully, she positioned the box under the swarm and … poked the bees. Bees tumbled into the box, buzzing indignantly.
