Random Observations

I've spent a lot of "blog" time recounting specific tasks or adventures I've had since I've had my bees, but I don't know if I've successfully conveyed how amazing these little creatures are. To the point that I can lose myself for quite a space of time just watching them. A neighbor, on seeing me in my chair intently staring at the hive asked me one day when the show would start. I couldn't think of a witty comeback at the time but I could have said 'It goes on all day!' Often, by paying close attention, you can see some pretty fascinating things that are a part of the bees day-to-day business. I find it very entertaining. So I thought that this time around I would share some of my random observations.

* Watching the entrance the other day, I saw a worker wrestle a dead bee out of the hive and drag it to the edge of the landing board. Then, using all of its strength, it half flew it, half threw it out into the grass in front of the hive.

* With the hive-top feeders on, I can take the top cover off for a short time and watch the bees in action under their screened enclosure as they slurp up the syrup. The adventure begins when I initially pour the (now) 2 gallons of syrup into the feeder. There are always bees loitering around at the bottom of the enclosure licking up whatever sugar residue there might be on the floor of the feeder once it has gone dry. When I pour in the new syrup, I do it slowly so that as many bees as possible can climb up out of the way of the rising liquid. Most do. A few of them seem to get confused and will walk down into the syrup and after becoming completely submerged, will begin sucking until they drown! I've taken to using a tiny stick to prod them towards the surface and in this way I've saved a few. But there is always a half dozen that seem bent on drowning and they become little floaters for the other bees to work around. Not that the other bees seem to mind, of course. Interestingly, once the feeder goes dry, as it always does, they will remove their dead sisters. I have never encountered a dead bee once the syrup has run out.

* I observed another cool thing while watching them in the feeder. Bees build their comb with wax that is secreted from the underside of their abdomen. Yesterday, a bee who was suspended upside-down on the screen had a couple of wax scales protruding and while I watched, she took hold of one of them, transferred it to her mouth/mandibles, and there began working it into shape for comb. After chewing awhile, she disappeared into the hive. No doubt to add her contribution to some part of the comb.

* Another interesting thing to see involves once again, the hive-top feeder. With the top cover off, it seems you have five to ten minutes before the first outside bee will come to investigate the sweet aroma of the liquid. Yesterday, I watched to see how long it took for the news to spread to other bees. The first bee or two settled in to fill their tanks and then flew off. While others happened upon the scene by scent or accident, it was clear that word had been passed by the first scouts after several minutes because traffic began to pick up to the point that I decided enough was enough. I blew smoke into the feeder to disperse the growing crowd as much as possible and then replaced the cover before the little festival qualified as a feeding frenzy!

* When the bees are feeding on the syrup, they will generally hang upside down from the screen and extend their tongues into the sweet liquid. You can actually see their tongues working as they suck up the liquid. Some, though, will actually lie on the surface, as if floating in a pool and blissfully suck away at the liquid. I don't know if this is on purpose or they've just been knocked down there by the others and now figure 'well, I'm here, might as well tank up!' Woe to the bee that reaches the syrup and is followed by a pack of others just above them as they often get pushed right down into the drink unless they can fight their way back up the screen to safety.

* Often times, the front entrance will become so lively with activity that the bees actually crash into each other while coming and going. Stationed around the entrance, there is always a crew of guard bees checking credentials. They are all very serious about their job and gamely run around trying to keep up with the continuous traffic seeking to enter the hive. They will stand on their rear two pairs of legs, heads elevated and twirl around and around trying to check foragers who come roaring in, largely oblivious to them. For their trouble, they are usually knocked all about by their older sisters who have nothing more on their minds than to unload whatever burden they are carrying. Meanwhile, other bees, intent on leaving the hive for yet another mission, will, in their haste or as a result of some collision with an inbound bee, come rolling out of the hive on their backs. They heave wildly until they have righted themselves and then take off undaunted. There is no room for niceties at the entrance, it's get out of the way or get knocked down!

* This time of year there are many drones leaving the hive hoping to get lucky (if they only knew!) and their clumsy ways are always amusing. They are not as nimble on their feet as their sisters and come rumbling out of the hive and take off with a low buzz. When they fly by your head, you can mistake them for a bumble bee as the noise they make is distinctively different from the higher pitched workers. Maybe it's because they lack stingers and are less menacing as a result, but I am fond of them. It's a shame that their efficient sisters will give them the heave ho as soon as nature shuts off the nectar valve.

* About four or five in the afternoon, it seems to be playtime for the new foraging recruits. Yesterday, for example, there was an astonishing number of bees sailing all around the hives, swirling in a thick mass, facing the entrance. These bees are about to make the big leap from house bees to field bees and they are orienting on the hive to hard wire its distinct features into their little brains so that they can find it again when they begin making foraging runs. After 20 or 30 minutes the activity returns to normal with just the usual comings and goings.

* Inside the hive, you see some really interesting things. One of my favorites is seeing the nurse bees feeding larvae. There is probably no more attentive creature in the animal world to its young than the honey bee. They will make an average of 1300 visits per day to feed each larvae with secretions from glands in their heads, etc. Whenever you examine a frame with brood, you will see dozens of bees poking into a cell with only their tail end visable as they feed the babies. The fact that you have smoked them and pulled that particular frame out of their house doesn't faze them at all, they gotta do what they gotta do.

These are just a few of the things I've seen. But as you can see, if you are observant and take some time, the bees will provide you with quite a show.

P.S. Currently I have two shallow honey supers on each hive, with one of them completely filled with comb and curing honey in each. I added another chunk of pollen patty to each hive today and added four more gallons of sugar water yesterday. Sheesh! (June 26 - added four more gallons)

Perhaps appreciating my generosity (though probably not) the girls have sheathed their stingers for the time being, and so...

Sting count...holding at 12.

Bees Win in Hard Fought Contest

It was a mis- adventure that could have been ripped from the scripts for Jackass.

Have you ever heard some variation of the phrase "...knowing just enough to be dangerous?" In my "all of three months" of beekeeping - digging into hives, shuffling frames, blowing smoke - I had developed a serious case of "knowing" my bees. My girls! We had an understanding. Well, worse than any wife or girlfriend, these sisters put me in my place. I am still discovering stings that I didn't know I had. When you stumble into the proverbial hornet's nest, or in this case honeybees, and they rise up in a beautiful cloud of yellow and black, their patience and goodwill gone, their buzzing changed to the pitch of some World War II fighter plane, and they descend on you like the fury of hell itself, you are far too busy running to pay much attention to individual stings. The terror is in their numbers, their noise, and their relentlessness. Pain is way down the list. I ran across my lawn like a man on fire, arms flailing wildly (I did withhold the urge to scream like a child), It seemed to me that I plucked one bee after another from some part of my upper anatomy with each step. Others sailed around my head. If I actually outran any of them, I retained a fine cadre of bee track stars who not only kept pace but literally flew circles around me as I ran. Any neighbors watching must have regretted forgetting the popcorn. I'm sure I put on one hell of a show! In the end, at last count, only five bees made the ultimate sacrifice for their hive. A number so puny, that I'm almost embarrassed by what I've just written...except that THE TERROR WAS REAL!!! And as I say, I continue to find itchy red spots I didn't know I had, so...

By now, you are probably asking yourself "What in the world did he do?" "How did he get into such a scrape?" Or perhaps "What an idiot!"

Let me tell you the story and then you can all unite on that last phrase. Sing it out loud, in unison if you like. Here goes...

It all began with feeding my bees sugar syrup so that they could draw out lots of beautiful comb in my honey supers. A week ago, I placed pollen patties on the top frames of each honey super and poured a gallon of syrup in each top feeder. It took the bees a day or so to realize that there was vittles in them thar feeders, but upon finding it, they sucked it down like it was some kind of contest. Two days after putting it in, the feeders were drained. I added more. One day later the syrup was gone. Now remember, each gallon of syrup contains an entire 5lb bag of granulated sugar. So in a matter of days they had downed 20lbs of the stuff. Exasperated, I made four gallons, two for each hive, poured it in, and envisioned getting a second mortgage just to feed these little gluttons.

Prior to adding the two gallons this last time around, I checked their progress building out the frames. The Georgia girls, who had a good head start on the neighbors, had drawn out six of their frames and begun filling them with liquid. Good show girls! The Arlington babes were much farther behind, having just begun work on two or three. This is where we stood prior to adding the four gallons of new syrup. This was added on Friday, June 15.

Yesterday, I took a peek in the feeders to see how much they had consumed and was amazed to see no more than perhaps a half gallon left. This was in Arlington. I never made it to Georgia.

Upon seeing that their syrup was nearly gone, I was overcome with curiosity about the frames. So much so, in fact, that I thought I'd peek without benefit of smoke, gloves, veil, etc. I was wearing a tee shirt, shorts and a baseball cap. Oh, and lots of exposed skin. I lifted the hive top feeder up and the last thing I remember before running for my life was a mushroom cloud of bees forming above the hive, the roar of hundreds, maybe thousands of bees (God! I just don't know!) and the cloud collapsing around me. This all took place in perhaps a nanosecond. My next coherent memory is of my blessed bathroom and a single bee, who had followed me in, batting itself silly against the ceiling light. I was breathing hard...but I was alive.

I never was able to ascertain the progress on the frames and, frankly, I didn't care.

Until today. I'll show those little bugs. I won't be denied. I am the higher life form after all.

Sting count after yesterday's debacle...12

Time to Re-Think Strategy

With the previous blog I told you how I had placed honey supers on my hives. Dreams of numerous, full honey jars danced in my head. It seemed like a good plan. I just couldn't wait to spread my own honey on my morning toast. These fantasies came crashing down when I attended a BANV meeting set up by Pat Haskell that was designed to check on the neophytes and our progress to date with the winged wonders. During the meeting I learned several things that had me re-thinking my honey strategy.
For one thing, I was under the impression that the nectar in our area kept up a bountiful flow until the end of July. Not so. Turns out that the spring nectar season pretty much dies out completely by the middle of June. Several weeks back, I had removed the hive-top feeders because the girls were bringing in scads of pollen and presumably lots of nectar. They had stopped taking the syrup so off came the feeders. Lately I had noticed far fewer bees returning to the hive with full pollen baskets. On inspecting the hives on Friday, I noticed that the honey supers were being ignored. Not one fleck of beeswax had been added to my foundation. You would have thought the queen excluder was electrified.
In the meeting, we were told that we needed to add pollen patties and feeders onto our hives and remove the queen excluders. These measures would cause the queen to keep laying eggs and the workers to draw out comb in the honey supers. It was strongly emphasized that our mission this first year was to get the bees to produce as much drawn out comb as possible in preparation for next year's nectar flows. The lost honey this year would be compensated for by pounds and pounds of the stuff next year. Well, being a poor, working guy, I'm familiar with the concept of delayed gratification and so I agreed to follow the program. I removed the exluders, whipped up a batch of sugar syrup, brought out a couple of chunks of pollen patty and went about setting things right for next year. Oh well.
As I said, this took place on Friday. On Saturday, I peeked hopefully under the top cover to see if the bees had found the syrup. Maybe a half dozen had made their way up there, no more. On the Georgia girls hive, I had always had trouble sealing the feeder off from opportunistic little ants. Briefly, when the feeders were on last, I had accidently arranged my heavy landscaping rocks in just the right way that the top cover pushed down enough to keep them out. I have not rediscovered that particular rock arrangement since, because the little pests have been having a grand feast while, at the same time, sacrificing untold numbers to drowning in the process. In the unending exercise trying to thwart them, I shift my rocks around trying to find just the right position. I did it once, I can do it again, right? If I could only be certain I had found the perfect configuration, I would spray paint their positions like they do murder victims, but to be sure it worked, I have to remove the rocks to see if there are any ants inside, never to find that "perfect" position again! By such means do men lose their minds. Obviously, I have a warped top cover and the ultimate fix, I guess, will be to get a new one. The other hive, possessor of an old, seen-better-days top cover, has never allowed the first ant to pass through to the syrup. Go figure.
Anyway, I digress. On checking the feeders today, I was amazed to discover that the bees had almost drained the gallon of syrup I had put in each feeder! The screened off feeding area was packed with bees and you could see many of them just slurping it up with their long tongues. I can only imagine the effect this turn of events is having on the honey super below the feeder. I didn't check them today, but considering that on last check the brood boxes were fully invested with brood and food, there isn't anywhere else for all that syrup to wind up but in the supers as comb I would think. I just can't get over how fast that syrup was consumed. The first feeder I checked was the "ant" feeder, so at first I thought the ants had carried off most of it. But on checking the second, ant-free feeder, it too was nearly drained. In three days!? Amazing.
So, in conclusion, for all of you that I, with some cockiness, announced a forthcoming batch of honey this season...I was just kidding! Ha! Ha! But stick with me here. As the Brooklyn Dodgers used to say..."Wait til next year!"
P.S. One girl took exception to the foregoing proceedings, and so...

Sting tally...7

Honey Supers!

I'm a little tardy in writing this, but better late than never, right? This past weekend, after determining that the bees couldn't go much further in drawing out comb, rearing brood and socking away all the pollen and honey they could cram into the two deeps hive bodies, I figured it was time to see how they would do in making me some honey. With little fanfare, and with a minimum of disruption to the bees themselves, I slipped a queen excluder and a shallow "honey super" on each hive, closed things up and crossed my fingers.
Just so things are clear to those of you who may not know a honey super from a screened bottom board, I'll give you a quick run through...
The queen excluder, as the name suggests, keeps our egg-laying machine from climbing up into our honey box and creating lots of squiggly white larvae in the cells around our honey. To bears, larvae constitutes a delicacy (more so than the honey, despite what Winnie the Pooh would have us believe!) but people tend to frown on the little critters mixed up with the sweet stuff. Basically, an excluder is very similar to the grill on your George Foreman, with the wire just wide enough to allow workers through but not the more rotund queen. Thus, no eggs.
The honey super is a box that holds frames just like the brood boxes only they are usually smaller. Where your "deep" hive bodies are roughly 10 inches high, your honey supers or boxes, are usually either mediums (about 7 inches) or shallows (about 6 inches). Deep boxes can be used as honey supers but the weight of one of those filled with ten frames of honey can tip the scales at around 100 pounds. To save old beekeepers backs, the smaller boxes are the popular alternative, particularly amongst hobbyists like myself.
The supers I put on this weekend contained frames and foundation only. Meaning that the bees would have to draw out the comb before they could start filling it with nectar. So this would set them back some, but the only way to get it drawn is to get it in the hive so they can draw it.
Honey, by the way, is made from the nectar that the bees store in the cells. Nectar contains primarily sugars and water. After storing the nectar in the cell, the bees work to reduce the water content and allow it to ripen into honey. Foragers carrying nectar transfer it to workers in the hive who carry it to a cell. To facilitate the evaporation of water from the nectar, the bee will carry small drops of it on her long tongue so that the air movement will have the desired effect. Through the fanning of their wings in the hive, other bees will help this process along as well. In short order, they will create the precious liquid, stored in the cell and finally capped over with wax to await the day when the bees need it or their hulking keeper swipes it from them. Life isn't fair for bees either, I'm afraid.