What a lovely evening it was yesterday. The sun was shining, the sky was blue and I could see, down at the bottom of the garden, much activity among my bee hives.
Yes, bee hives, plural.
It appears I have an apiary now.
So I wandered on down, suit on, smoker in hand, just wanting to check the new hive, San-Shi (that's "three-four" in Japanese, thank you very much). I had placed the Queen Excluder under the Brood Box to keep Her Majesty in place for a few days, to resist the temptation to swarm away again. And I was aware that, with two Supers on the Brood Box of Itchy Knee Hive, I was one Queen Excluder short. I need to place the QE under the very top Super, so that I can start harvesting honey proper.
So I ambled into the apiary, but I felt loathe to interfere too much with the bees. And they were very gentle. Busy, distracted, almost welcoming. So I puffed one very soft cloud of smoke and then set the smoker aside. I popped the top of San-Shi open, curious beyond anything as to what I would see. I guess I was a little shocked actually, to see how small the gathering of bees is inside there. Only two of the 11 new frames had any activity showing; most of it honey. But on closer inspection, yes, there was the Queen. And there, clearly showing on the new foundation, very new rice-grain eggs. She has been laying.
I took the QE off, and ran back to get a blue cokie pen. It's a year ending in "0" so the frames should be coloured blue. I quickly etched in blue arrows on the frames (there is one green-marked one in there), and closed up the hive again.
Then I went across to Itchy Knee, and looked only in the top two Supers. In the top, nothing drawn by the bees. In the one below, a lot of comb, a lot of honey, and one Play Queen Cell. I did not go further into the Brood Box. I will leave that either for tomorrow morning, or Sunday evening. I gently slipped the QE between the two Supers, and closed up the hive again.
As I walked away, it worried me that San-Shi looked so small and under-resourced. "They need a feed," I thought to myself. Quickly and efficiently I made up a 1:1 water:sugar mix in the Feeder and, hoping it would fit, took it down to the hive as I usually do, fully dressed in bee-suit, with the feeder on a tray, feeling all the world like Jeeves the Butler on a movie set.
I took off the lid once more and carefully slid the Feeder into place, then placed the roof back on top. Yes, it fits and covers the hive and leaves no gap. It is a perfect fit.
Now the thoughts that fill my mind are those of balance; I must balance the challenge of Itchy Knee's possible Queenless state with growth for San-Shi, or a merging of both to ensure their survival through next winter. I spent this morning on the train, staring across the veggie allotments, thinking, planning, weighing up options. It was delightful.
And, oh, how good it felt to have completed such a calm, gentle, positive, ambling Inspection! I sat for a long, long time on my chair between the hives, watching all the work going on at the entrance to each hive. I felt so confident, sure of myself. I knew what to do, how to do it. All my movements among the bees were calm and assured. After a long year of bumbling around, at last, I truly felt like a beekeeper.
As my housemate, Kate, approached for a chat, it was lovely to see her in the sunshine, surrounded by bees flying in back home. And to see her so unconcerned by their proximity was another pleasure.
What was even more lovely though, was to see how she shared my suprised and fierce joy in honey - our very own honey, from our very own hives! It's truly amazing that we've become so urbanised that we've forgotten the intense satisfaction and pleasure we get from harvesting our own crops, from seeing how the honey makes its journey through nature, through the flowers and bees and wax and comb, into our jars and onto our dining tables.
It reminded me poignantly of my promise to myself so many years ago, on coming to the UK, on journeying to a new life. I made a promise that I should know where to look for joy - I knew that I had to look for simplicity and authenticity in my life, in my every experience.
I seem to have found it in this simple, pleasurable craft, full of complexities and mysteries, filled with challenges and achievements. Here is the life I wanted for so long. It crept up on me and when I turned around, I fell into it without even noticing.
Here it is - peace and happiness, and balance, at last.
Yes, bee hives, plural.
It appears I have an apiary now.
So I wandered on down, suit on, smoker in hand, just wanting to check the new hive, San-Shi (that's "three-four" in Japanese, thank you very much). I had placed the Queen Excluder under the Brood Box to keep Her Majesty in place for a few days, to resist the temptation to swarm away again. And I was aware that, with two Supers on the Brood Box of Itchy Knee Hive, I was one Queen Excluder short. I need to place the QE under the very top Super, so that I can start harvesting honey proper.
So I ambled into the apiary, but I felt loathe to interfere too much with the bees. And they were very gentle. Busy, distracted, almost welcoming. So I puffed one very soft cloud of smoke and then set the smoker aside. I popped the top of San-Shi open, curious beyond anything as to what I would see. I guess I was a little shocked actually, to see how small the gathering of bees is inside there. Only two of the 11 new frames had any activity showing; most of it honey. But on closer inspection, yes, there was the Queen. And there, clearly showing on the new foundation, very new rice-grain eggs. She has been laying.
I took the QE off, and ran back to get a blue cokie pen. It's a year ending in "0" so the frames should be coloured blue. I quickly etched in blue arrows on the frames (there is one green-marked one in there), and closed up the hive again.
Then I went across to Itchy Knee, and looked only in the top two Supers. In the top, nothing drawn by the bees. In the one below, a lot of comb, a lot of honey, and one Play Queen Cell. I did not go further into the Brood Box. I will leave that either for tomorrow morning, or Sunday evening. I gently slipped the QE between the two Supers, and closed up the hive again.
As I walked away, it worried me that San-Shi looked so small and under-resourced. "They need a feed," I thought to myself. Quickly and efficiently I made up a 1:1 water:sugar mix in the Feeder and, hoping it would fit, took it down to the hive as I usually do, fully dressed in bee-suit, with the feeder on a tray, feeling all the world like Jeeves the Butler on a movie set.
I took off the lid once more and carefully slid the Feeder into place, then placed the roof back on top. Yes, it fits and covers the hive and leaves no gap. It is a perfect fit.
Now the thoughts that fill my mind are those of balance; I must balance the challenge of Itchy Knee's possible Queenless state with growth for San-Shi, or a merging of both to ensure their survival through next winter. I spent this morning on the train, staring across the veggie allotments, thinking, planning, weighing up options. It was delightful.
And, oh, how good it felt to have completed such a calm, gentle, positive, ambling Inspection! I sat for a long, long time on my chair between the hives, watching all the work going on at the entrance to each hive. I felt so confident, sure of myself. I knew what to do, how to do it. All my movements among the bees were calm and assured. After a long year of bumbling around, at last, I truly felt like a beekeeper.
As my housemate, Kate, approached for a chat, it was lovely to see her in the sunshine, surrounded by bees flying in back home. And to see her so unconcerned by their proximity was another pleasure.
What was even more lovely though, was to see how she shared my suprised and fierce joy in honey - our very own honey, from our very own hives! It's truly amazing that we've become so urbanised that we've forgotten the intense satisfaction and pleasure we get from harvesting our own crops, from seeing how the honey makes its journey through nature, through the flowers and bees and wax and comb, into our jars and onto our dining tables.
It reminded me poignantly of my promise to myself so many years ago, on coming to the UK, on journeying to a new life. I made a promise that I should know where to look for joy - I knew that I had to look for simplicity and authenticity in my life, in my every experience.
I seem to have found it in this simple, pleasurable craft, full of complexities and mysteries, filled with challenges and achievements. Here is the life I wanted for so long. It crept up on me and when I turned around, I fell into it without even noticing.
Here it is - peace and happiness, and balance, at last.
Hi Margo, just wanting to touch base and let you know that our hive seems to be doing as it is supposed to at this stage. They settled into their new home 6 days ago and after a feed because it was so cold and new larvae were beginning to hatch out I thought it would be good for them. Anyhoo, they are as 'busy as bee's with bums full of honey'. And we have called the hive Go-Ruku. You have one/two, three/four..... we have five/six. So 'Liz' and her girls are happy. I worry about things that can go wrong but as our mentor John says we should get comfy with the status quo and then we will be more ready to identify things when..... yes WHEN!!! they do go wrong. In 8 days while at Johns they had begun laying and had drawn out the five frames of the Nuc box they had been housed in. And they had been competing with the bees from 40 hives at John's place so really good little workers. 'Liz' went out and bonked her brains out and is laying happily and we go into the hive for the first time proper tomorrow.... eeeek!!!! I cannot wait!!!! Will keep you posted...... P x
ReplyDeleteWhat a magic post to get on my blog; on my birthday :) thanks Patrice xx
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