The Ladies are Back in Town

Saturday found beehusband and me standing behind a metal building in New Columbia, Pennsylvania. It was cold and windy. I was wearing sandals. Of course, I saw one other woman wearing flip-flops, so I didn't feel too weird. Most people were dressed appropriately for the weather; hiking boots, insulated vests. Layers-you get the picture.

What could entice us to drive over two hours and stand out in the cold? Bees. Along with forty other people, we gathered behind the Brushy Mountain Bee Farm storefront to watch someone "shake" bees into a hive without creating either physical harm to oneself and ending up on YouTube, or watching your queen bee fly away, never to be seen again. The queen part is a bad thing. YouTube is just a catastrophe of epic proportions.

The bee wrangler seemed very comfortable with the box of bees (similar to the box of bees sitting in the back of my Volvo wagon), and with great calmness, clarity, and a certain degree of humor, talked us through the process. He finished the demo; the bees shaken, not stirred, and all was well.

After lunch at Applebee's, we drove home and following the addition of several layers of clothing (and shoes for me), we bravely walked back to our hive and proceeded to shake some bees. We put the queen cage on one frame, per the demo, and did the deed. I added a feeder of sugar syrup, put on the top, and beehusband and I shared a cup of celebratory coffee.

Sunday, beehusband voiced concern over the number of bees left in the box sitting outside the hive. You must understand, sometimes the bees decide to take their time entering the hive, and would rather walk in than settle for the unceremonious shaking. However, the night was chilly, and we thought the bees had froze. I brought the box indoors, only to discover the little cadavers began walking around. So they returned outside.

Four days later, I checked on the little ladies. Everyone seems very energetic and are entering the hive laden with pollen and other bee-type goodness.

It is good to see to ladies flying about. I missed the activity in the yard. Winter took its toll, and now spring has given us another chance to be spectators and caretakers of the hive.

The Chronicle of the Bees

I have a confession. When I was small, I caught honey bees in a jar and watched them fly about trying to escape. I have since come to my senses, repented of my sins against bees, and become a beekeeper. It is an interesting term: beekeeper. It is not the same as owning a dog or cat. Believe me, no one really "keeps" bees. In most instances, you stand by and watch the bees do their thing. You try to provide a proper place for them to colonize, build honeycomb, raise new bees, and store honey; like a beehive. At certain times of the year, depending on the weather, you provide additional nutrition, or bales of straw to protect the hive from the ravages of winter winds, which can freeze a colony in not time flat. Otherwise, they usually ignore you. I think that is a good thing, for I believe it reminds us of our place in the universe.

As a researcher, I did the usual thing and researched bees, their plight, and the joys of beekeeping before I took the plunge. I was afraid of the responsibility of "keeping" a hive of 30,000-60,000 little souls (as I thought of them). We obtained a swarm in the middle of June, which put the ladies at a disadvantage, or so we thought. However, before I continue, let me explain a few terms. Bees are female, unless they are drones. Drones impregnate the Queen, then hang around and eat until the real workers expel them from the hive in the fall. The drones have nowhere to go, and die. In beekeeping circles it is called The Massacre of the Drones. Women, even bees, are ruthless. Therefore, we refer to the colony of workers as "the ladies." Bees are dependent on pollen and nectar flows at particular times of the year. We were concerned they would not have the opportunity to build up their numbers before fall. The president of the Beekeepers Association visited our hive and pronounced everyone right on track.

I monitored their progress through weekly hive inspections and supplemental feedings. The bees were always pleasant and non-aggressive. (Wasps will sting you for no reason whatsoever; bees only sting protecting the hive.) I loved to wander out and watch them fly in and out of the hive entrance on their various errands. They ignored me, or occasionally one buzzed me to check me out. Once, while inspecting the hive a bee landed on my protective gloves and began buzzing. A very interesting, strange, and funny sensation.

They seemed to be doing well until about three weeks ago. We had a period of very low temperatures and wind. Even though I placed straw bales behind the hive in the direction of prevailing winds, the wind changed and attacked the hive from the front. To add insult to injury, the high winds blew off the top cover of the hive. During cold weather bees cluster around the Queen and maintain a temperature of around 94 degrees. Extremely cold temperatures and my inexperience may have seriously damaged the colony.

I am now waiting to see if the little ladies survived. There is nothing I can do. If they did survive, they will emerge one warm spring day. If not, I will clean out the hive and start over. It is Nature. I will be sad, but I know others have lost hives as well. I will continue to update their status as time goes on.

I have become more fully aware of the importance of the honey bee. At least one of every three bites of food we consume is the result of pollination by honey bees, or other varieties of pollinators. I will leave my editorial on the loss of the honey bee and its consequences for another day. However, I encourage you to plant a few bee-friendly flowers this spring. There are numerous Internet sites listing plantings for bee and butterfly gardens. Catch the buzz. Respect the Queen. Keep the little ladies flying.