Introduction.
Following on from last week’s blog on colony death, Jane Geddes has kindly agreed to share her recent experiences. Jane lives in rural Nairnshire on the edge of a heather covered grouse moor in the Scottish Highlands.
Over to Jane.
I am a retired midwife, working in a variety of areas including the NHS, university and latterly in the most amazing of places, Malawi. Although I am retired, I am not “tired” – I started keeping bees at the start of 2015 and I am still being kept on the hop with them, learning something new every day. Alongside keeping bees I love Life and keep it packed full. I enjoy running, walking, cycling, swimming and adore my kayak life (river and sea).
Colony Demise.
I worry about my bees as if they are my children. In early spring I fret about food and if they have enough, pondering adding extra fondant or the use of pollen patties (which I haven’t used so far). In late spring and summer, I sit beside the front door on a rough-hewn seat to watch pollen-filled baskets flying home; later in the season observing the heavy, slow bounce-landing of bees with full honey crops. In late winter I adopt a different monitoring strategy. Squatting at the base of each colony with my ear to the base of the hive, listening for their quiet murmuring that lets me know that all is well.
Until yesterday. This was a weaker colony from last year, fed, and fed again from August onwards. Weaker due to a robbing frenzy by wasps that I failed to notice as my bees were on “holiday” down the hill and when I got the colony home, they were in need of TLC. I was hoping that there was enough food to last the winter and to be doubly sure, I placed fondant on top of the cluster, covered with clean sacking.
Silence.
Back to the colony after the wind had dropped.
Silence.
The following morning, I looked inside. No movement to be seen, no bees within the bag of fondant although from above it was obvious that they had been eating, as you can see from photo 1. I lifted the corner of the bag and listened again. Very still. Very quiet. Lifting the bag away I could see bees on the floor of the hive, though no more than is usual at this time of the year- and a few (dead) bees across the top of the frame.
Looking inside, I found the dead bees at the bottom of the hive, underneath the corresponding frame, though perhaps they had been clustered there and died off naturally. I looked at the frames directly underneath the eaten fondant. I found bees scattered across one frame, all with their heads buried deep inside the cells (photo 2). The number of bees in total was small and I may, on reflection, have been better to house them in a nuc over winter (with the benefit of hindsight)!
I took the hive into the shed and sighed when I found loaded frames of the feed that I had placed out from August. So near yet so far away! I imagine the weather warmed up, they moved into the hive and there followed a cold snap and there weren’t enough bees to cosy up and keep each other warm. Thinking and thinking, wondering what else I could have done. At times, I look down into the colony on warm-ish days and move the bag of fondant to “follow” their movements- and again I may have been caught unawares. Who knows? What I do know is that I have been keeping bees for 6 years and this last year has been my least successful.
Still learning!