Bee Adventure

Who knew I would love bees as much as I do? I finished Fruitless Fall last weekend. It was enlightening. These little creatures are so fascinating. There’s so much to learn from them and so many reason to love and respect them. We have hesitated telling our neighbors about our bees because we know so many of them will probably look at it with a closed mind, call us crazy, and find a reason for use to get rid of them. I know that some people do have serious allergic reactions to bees, but statistically, that’s a pretty small number. Many people think they do because the bites swell and burn and itch for days, but that’s the typical reaction. Bee stings suck, but you’ll live if that’s all that happens to you. How could anyone want to destroy such an amazing creature for the small pain it might cause?

I had my bee interaction this week on Tuesday. I taught my first day of summer school, did my grocery shopping, and went home to tend the bees. We hadn’t checked the hive since we moved it to the back of the yard, letting them settle and reorient themselves to the new location. When I opened the top cover, I saw that the inner cover was put on upside down, leaving too much space from the top if the hive to the cover, and I could see little mountains of comb inside the cover’s hole. I pried up the inner cover and smoked the bees a little, let it rest a moment, and then pulled the inner cover all the way off.

And what a mess. There was no rhyme or reason to the placement of the comb on top of the frames. It was just everywhere. Where was my bee organization??? It was even on the underside of the inner cover. And bees were all over it, storing nectar in the small pockets. I knew I had to scrape it off, but I knew that that was dangerous to the bees all around. I smoked them again, (I know that much smoke is not good for the honey, but I justified it by saying that it’s not honey we’ll be eating – I guess too bad for the bees) and a number of them went down into the frames, but many seemed to be engorging themselves on nectar or depositing it. I gently began to scrape the nearest comb off the frames, trying not to injury anyone. The hive tool began to be coated with nectar, and some of the bees panicked. I dropped the comb on a concrete slab next to the hive, in the hopes that the bees would be able to retrieve that nectar and bring it back to the appropriate place in the hive. Some of them buzzed pretty harshly as I dropped them on the stone, but many just tumbled on it, covered in nectar and probably about as high as could be.

After about ten minutes, I wasn’t even halfway done and the bees were upset at me. It was 94 degrees outside and I was wearing my khakis and polo from work under my bee suit. Sweat was dripping from the nose and down the back of my neck. I could feel my clothes plastered to me under the suit. But I knew that if I left this until next time, it would be even worse. The bees would be more protective, as it was, they weren’t swarming me too much, only three or four, and none had wasted her life trying to sting me, so I carried on.

After about forty minutes, I had the comb scraped off the frames, and I still needed to check some of them for brood and honey. I pulled the frame closest to the feeder, the one that only had the beginnings of comb the last time I check, about a week and half ago. On it, I noticed healthy, brood in the center, much of it already capped – we should have new bees soon from it. I could see the white larvae about six days old still curled in the comb. At the top of the frame were numbers of capped cells of honey (mostly the sugar water, I assume). Then I saw a very frustrating thing: mites. I only saw two, but I only looked at two frames. Who’s to say how many others are already in the capped brood cells?

Patrick and I discussed what to do—do we introduce chemicals to kill off the mites like so many profitable beekeepers do? Or do we do as many organic hobbyists do and let nature take its course and hope we get the strongest of our bees to survive? I know we definitely don’t want to introduce chemicals for any reason—we’re not in it for profit, so why be so destructive? But I also worry about all those bees being killed off by this little vermin. Hopefully, because I only saw a couple, it won’t be too bad. We already have a screened bottom board, which is supposed to be helpful in ridding a colony of mites or of preventing mites. And I’m going to try a very simple technique: powdered sugar. I read that you can dust them with powdered sugar ever week or so, and it forces the bees to clean each other more often. I have witnessed many of them cleaning each other pretty thoroughly when I’ve checked the hive before, but hopefully this will force them to pull mites off each other.

Anyway, I checked two good frames of brood, pollen, and capped honey. My smoker had gone out, and many of the bees had returned to the top of the frames near the entrance—the dance floor frames, most likely where the queen was. I decided I had disturbed them enough, so I shook some who were on the inner cover back into the hive, inverted it, and correctly placed it on the hive. Then I put the heavy outer cover back on and retreated. This time, only one followed me, and she didn’t follow that far. That evening, though, they called in the troops and set hundreds as guards at the entrance, afraid of another attack. Yet they continued their work yesterday and I’m sure will do the same today.

As much as I want some rain, I do need a clear day maybe Sunday or Monday to get back in and dust them with sugar and examine the rest of the frames. I’ll record more on that visit later.

As for DB, he’s not too fond of the bees. When they were beside the fence and shooting out in the middle of the yard, he didn’t like it at all—they were right at the place he used to cross the fence, and I’m guessing they didn’t like him very much, considering he’s small, black, and furry like a skunk—natural predator of bees. But now that they’re moved, he seems much happier to hang out in the back yard.