A flicker of hope

On Sunday 22 May I opened the Hive, hoping against hope that by now a Queen had been born and mated. But that's not what I found. I found only a blob of wax remaining from the Queen cells and no trace of Queen or eggs.

How to describe the feeling that washes over you as you declare "That's it, it's all over, we're finished"? There's such a multitude of mixed emotions you have to process - despair - I'm a failure; I'll just give up; absolute powerlessness; utter dejection.

How odd then, that it has been the cats who have (indirectly) encouraged me to find hope.

They have been having trouble with an interloper - a stray tom who is bullying both of them. So they love it when I spend time with them in the garden - it helps them feel safe while they take time to establish their scent on all the plants. And also, the amble down the garden path with both of them has been a wonderful addition to my evenings.

So on Saturday, I spent some time just sitting and watching the bees - something I haven't done in a while. Bumble and Phoebe sat quietly with me. They're amazing - they'll chase (and catch) every other insect under the sun, but not the bees. Some primordial instinct warns them off; they will sit and watch the bees coming in and out of the hive entrance, engrossed. But they won't touch 'em. Clever kitties!

And as I watched, I could see more and more bees coming in with pollen on their legs. I was surprised; convinced the hive was dying, surely they wouldn't be bringing in protein to feed babies?

You know that feeling when you're in a dark, dark place and that first flicker of candle light sparks? It felt just like that ...

I checked them out yesterday afternoon again. Again, no eggs, no sign of new life at all.

Except - I saw a Queen!

I don't know, I don't know - she wasn't laying, she had a little dent on her thorax, she was running around like an ordinary bee. But She was a Queen, without a doubt.

A Queen!

I declare, I had to sit down and take a breath. It was wonderful. I almost don't know what to think anymore.

A Queen!

After thinking for a bit, it occurred to me that all their frames are filled, filled, filled with honey and pollen. They haven't made way for empty cells at all, and they still keep bringing in pollen. So this is what I did:

I gave them space. I placed the old National brood box, filled with empty drawn honeycombed frames on top of the new brood box. And then I tenderly closed everything up and went and sent up a little prayer to all the gods in heaven.

Send up your prayers, folks. All may well not be lost just yet.

I'm still keeping the faith

xxx

3-week hiatus

I am excited - Saturday is D-Day.

I've been watching things at the entrance, and the Big Hive seems to be gradually improving. Although I don't see much pollen going in, and numbers aren't necessarily increasing, there's constant activity. Little Hive looks much, much more vulnerable.

After a 3-week "leave-'em-alone" period, which has been a wonderful period of grace for me while we've been settling in with the new cats, I can't wait to dive right in and see what's happening.

PS: Both cats chase insects like crazy, but seem very cautious around the hive entrances. However, Bumble the Big has jumped up on top of the Big Hive to leap over our neighbour's fence!

I wonder how long he'll keep that up once he's been stung ...

Weirdest Use Ever for a Dressmaking Pin

The situation in the Apiary is dire. After my disastrous accidental assassination of the Queen on the 27th March, while transferring bees from the old hive box into the larger new one, I have waited and hoped the bees would correct things by growing their own Queen. Week after week I have checked and seen no signs of a Queen. Some Queen Cells, yes, but only one of them looked successfully opened - and no sign of the resulting Queen.

So I went to my local beekeeper community for help, and they have come through magnificently. On Sunday afternoon, a fellow beekeeper inspecting his colonies found numerous sealed Queen cells in his hives - signs of possible swarms - unwanted swarms. So he carefully carved them out of the surrounding honeycomb and tenderly handed them to me, still sealed.

As if transferring a live beating human heart for a transplant, I tenderly placed them in a box and rushed them to my car, still dressed in my beekeeper suit. With a mentor following in her car close behind I drove - extra-carefully - the 2 miles back home. I phoned ahead to let the folks at home know that "I'll be coming in hot, people, hot! Stand by, everyone!"

I suspect my mentor was completely bemused by my home situation. One gentleman standing by to open the door for us, another barefoot in the kitchen cooking a grand meal for all of us. She must think I keep a harem back home. I won't disabuse her of any such notion :-D

She and I rushed up to my office and pulled out my Sewing Box. I scrabbled around for the dressmakers pins, and together we rushed the boxed Queen Cells down to the Apiary at the bottom of the garden.

Scarcely daring to breathe, I opened up the Big Hive and found a suitable frame. Gently, gently, ever so gently I picked up a Queen Cell, filled to bursting with an about-to-be-born New Virgin Queen, and I pinned it directly to the honeycomb, without bruising, piercing or marking the actual Cell in any way.

We did this with two Cells, to hedge our bets; the third one being deemed to have been slightly damaged and therefore no good anymore (how sad).

Then we closed up the Big Hive, and I promised faithfully not even to peek under the lid for at least three more weeks. Oh, the waiting!

Then I checked the Little Hive next door, and - well, blow me over with a feather - there in the honeycomb were half a dozen larvae! There's a laying Queen in there somewhere, and as soon as the thought popped out, I saw her scrambling over the frame. Not very big, perhaps an Emergency Queen, but a Queen nevertheless.

I am completely and utterly mystified - on two different levels.

1. Where did this Lass come from?

2. Why is She laying so little?

Well, after thanking and saying goodbye to the lady mentor, I sat down with the lads back home for a jovial meal and a lovely evening and then went to bed, turned out the light and let my mind wander over the past few weeks.

An odd thought came to me then, in the dark. Perhaps this Queen came out of that one original successful-looking Queen Cell in the Big Hive. Perhaps She was born, and flew out to mate. And perhaps she came back - into the wrong hive.

After all, Queens don't fly that often; perhaps Her geo-location was a bit off.

And as for the limited laying, I suspect it's because She has so few retainers in that hive. So few worker bees survived the Split in March; perhaps She knows a thing or two and is laying strategically just enough to allow those few retainers to be able to keep up with mothering and housekeeping until the numbers of bees grow bigger.

I can only keep checking and - where possible - helping a little with feed. I can only keep watching as the bees weave their magic; and hope for the best. This wonderful early summer can't be doing them any harm either.

Fingers crossed, everyone.