Apparently Mother Nature is having some issues. The Washington D.C. region has gone from frigid nights to almost-spring back to frigid nights. Today it’s predicted to be in the 80s.
The flip-flopping of weather patterns is murder on people’s nerves and immune systems.
Unfortunately, our honeybees suffer the same maddening frustrations with the weather as we do. By this point, most clusters in the area have broken and foraging is happening in earnest. The sudden appearance of a cold snap causes not only confusion, but can be deadly to a hive. The bees, which had months to prepare for this past winter, are caught off guard and may not re-cluster in time to stave off the freezing temperatures.
Many keepers lose a hive during these periods and there is little we can do to prevent it. No amount of feeding or nurturing can prepare the bees for a cold snap and the best we can hope for is that they can figure things out in time.
But bees are hardy little insects and have survived worse catastrophes. They live in rough climates from the chilly woods of the arctic to hot and humid latitudes near the equator. There are no keepers in the wild, so they have to find for themselves when it comes to pollen, nectar, and dealing with funky weather patterns.
Ultimately, all we can do is our best to help the bees, but recognize that sometimes elements are outside our control. Maybe it's a wild cold snap or maybe it's a disease that we cannot prevent. No matter what, as long as we work hard to ensure the bees are healthy and happy, everything else is up to chance.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
The Barren Weeks
The period between the end of winter and the beginning of spring is exceptionally hard on the bees. As temperatures warm during the day, the cluster breaks and the bees begin taking cleansing flights as well as the first foraging flights of the season. Unfortunately, these are The Barren Weeks where pollen and nectar are in short supply. Many keepers have to make emergency feedings to keep the bees alive and sometimes, no matter what you do, it doesn’t work.
Few things are as disheartening as the loss of a hive. Last year, the bees died from a suspected combination of mites and starvation. Despite battling the varrora and ensuring the bees had more than enough honey for the winter, the girls did not survive. It’s maddening to open a hive and see the cluster frozen on a frame, heads buried in empty cells, while frames of fresh honey sit neglected only one super above them. For whatever reason, they refused to access the food and died inside an empty larder.
Yesterday, the Fiancée and I discovered that the “new” bees were not only still alive, but ready to rock and roll. Hundreds of girls spilled from a gap in the inner cover caused by several large chunks of bee candy and many foragers were returning with overflowing pollen buckets. We added some pollen patties to the top (to give them a protein boost), removed the mouse-guard at the entrance, relocated the remaining candy to the bottom of the hive (to encourage the girls to use the landing strip), and sealed the top of the hive tight. For a while, the bees struggled with the change in entry points, but eventually they figured out where the entry point was located.
Watching them reassess the situation was an education in the intelligence of these insects. Most of the bees were either survivors from the last crop going into the winter or freshly hatched over the chilly months. The cluster broke maybe two weeks ago, so the majority of foragers only knew about the “gap” entrance up top. When it went away, they began inspecting the rest of the hive for access and, once a few discovered the landing strip, started re-orienting themselves. They’d take off, immediately turn to face the hive, and arc back and forth. Then they’d land and repeat the process again from a farther distance. Within minutes, a large number of bees had not only figured things out, but communicated the knowledge with their sisters.
We left them to their re-education with a feeling of optimism. Having opted to let these bees deal with the varrora on their own and only feed them in an emergency, it was exhilarating to know they survived. Better yet, they seemed healthy and eager to get back to work.
Losses are a part of life when keeping bees, but those that make it through the difficult months come out stronger on the other side. As spring approaches, it’s my hope that these battle-tested girls pass their knowledge on to the next generation. But it’s nice to know that, for now, they beat the odds.
Few things are as disheartening as the loss of a hive. Last year, the bees died from a suspected combination of mites and starvation. Despite battling the varrora and ensuring the bees had more than enough honey for the winter, the girls did not survive. It’s maddening to open a hive and see the cluster frozen on a frame, heads buried in empty cells, while frames of fresh honey sit neglected only one super above them. For whatever reason, they refused to access the food and died inside an empty larder.
Yesterday, the Fiancée and I discovered that the “new” bees were not only still alive, but ready to rock and roll. Hundreds of girls spilled from a gap in the inner cover caused by several large chunks of bee candy and many foragers were returning with overflowing pollen buckets. We added some pollen patties to the top (to give them a protein boost), removed the mouse-guard at the entrance, relocated the remaining candy to the bottom of the hive (to encourage the girls to use the landing strip), and sealed the top of the hive tight. For a while, the bees struggled with the change in entry points, but eventually they figured out where the entry point was located.
Watching them reassess the situation was an education in the intelligence of these insects. Most of the bees were either survivors from the last crop going into the winter or freshly hatched over the chilly months. The cluster broke maybe two weeks ago, so the majority of foragers only knew about the “gap” entrance up top. When it went away, they began inspecting the rest of the hive for access and, once a few discovered the landing strip, started re-orienting themselves. They’d take off, immediately turn to face the hive, and arc back and forth. Then they’d land and repeat the process again from a farther distance. Within minutes, a large number of bees had not only figured things out, but communicated the knowledge with their sisters.
We left them to their re-education with a feeling of optimism. Having opted to let these bees deal with the varrora on their own and only feed them in an emergency, it was exhilarating to know they survived. Better yet, they seemed healthy and eager to get back to work.
Losses are a part of life when keeping bees, but those that make it through the difficult months come out stronger on the other side. As spring approaches, it’s my hope that these battle-tested girls pass their knowledge on to the next generation. But it’s nice to know that, for now, they beat the odds.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
The War Between Fear and Common Sense
Phobias, by their nature, are stupid. They are effectively emotion overriding common sense. Compared to the number of automobile accidents in a given year, airplanes have a much higher safety record, yet people are still terrified to fly. Others cannot stand heights, even if there are numerous precautions that prevent you from going over the side of the Empire State Building.
No matter how much you show yourself or others the numbers, be they statistics or simple facts, a phobia will almost always win the fight.
But sometimes you can learn to live with and eventually overcome them.
My first recollection of bees wasn't a positive one. According to my mother, a neighborhood pal convinced me that bee stings would kill me. Being 3 or 4 at the time, her words were the Gospel. Never mind the fact that I wasn't allergic to stings, the seed was planted.
Soon after my friend altered my perception I stepped on a bee in my front yard. My reaction was nothing short of horrified.
Thus began my fear of bees.
The terror of stings continued over the course of my life. There was the time when I was ten and a friend and I were walking in the woods of my family home. We disturbed a ground-bees nest and attacked immediately. We were stung several times and raced to the safety of the indoors. While standing in the kitchen, sobbing and shaking and being consoled by my mother, I noticed a ground bee (aka: yellow jacket) circling my feet. With a scream, I ran upstairs and barricaded myself in my room to include shoving a towel in the crack under to door to prevent the bee from following me. I spent the rest of the day locked in my room, stricken with fear.
There are other stories. Our Husky getting into a ground bees nest while walking the property that became the future family homestead. Disturbing a nest while inspecting a tree house at a home my parents were thinking of buying inAlaska
As I grew older, my outward reaction decreased, but the internal reaction remained the same: uncontrollable fear. A fear based on a childhood conversation long lost in the file-cabinets of my mind, but remembered on a sub-conscious, instinctive level. Common sense dictated that stings, while painful, were not fatal, yet there was no convincing my conscious mind of that fact.
Why then, was there any desire to get into beekeeping? I wish it was based on an initial desire to overcome my fear, but the reality is far less impressive: I was wooed by the science of honeybees. That fascination grew into education and the more I learned, less intimidating they became.
But educating myself did not completely cure my fear and even now, after years of keeping bees, I occasionally feel the rise of panic when things get busy in the hive. That being said, the fact that the hive and it's 60,000 some-odd inhabitants does not terrify me anymore is a personal milestone. Having spent time with honeybees up close, I now understand their nature more than I did when I was 4 and that, more than anything, is reason enough not to fear their sting.
One caveat: as of this posting, I've yet to be stung by my girls. I am still fearful of the day when, not if, it happens, but experience has helped me overcome the irrational fears and follow a road I would never have taken years ago.
Lessons learned from experience:
Honeybees, unlike hornets, wasps, and yellow jackets, are not aggressive. Unless you threaten the hive or attempt to squash one in your hand, they won't normally attack. There may be times when they get extra defensive (i.e. late summer as the nectar flow winds to a close, evening when more bees are in the hive, rainy days, etc), but by and large, the hive usually has more important things on its mind. Mine barely notices me when I work it.
Honeybees are curious. Pop the top on a hive and you'll have hundreds of girls come out to see what's going on. If it's chilly, they'll take a break on your suit to warm up. They like to investigate, will bump your veil to say "hello" and will wiggle into cuffs, under shirts, or up your sleeves if able. Slow movements and a keen eye for where they are keeps everyone happy.
Stings kill the bee, therefore it is a last-ditch option. Given a choice, their natural reaction in "the wild" (aka more than 20 or so feet from the hive) is to run. Foragers are usually more concerned with getting the nectar or pollen they've harvested back to the hive than they are trying to sting you.
In the end, it's hard to explain a fear to yourself. Rational thought and common sense usually take a back seat to inexplicable emotions. But with a little education and a willingness to take a risk, you may open the door to a fascinating new hobby.
No matter how much you show yourself or others the numbers, be they statistics or simple facts, a phobia will almost always win the fight.
But sometimes you can learn to live with and eventually overcome them.
My first recollection of bees wasn't a positive one. According to my mother, a neighborhood pal convinced me that bee stings would kill me. Being 3 or 4 at the time, her words were the Gospel. Never mind the fact that I wasn't allergic to stings, the seed was planted.
Soon after my friend altered my perception I stepped on a bee in my front yard. My reaction was nothing short of horrified.
Thus began my fear of bees.
The terror of stings continued over the course of my life. There was the time when I was ten and a friend and I were walking in the woods of my family home. We disturbed a ground-bees nest and attacked immediately. We were stung several times and raced to the safety of the indoors. While standing in the kitchen, sobbing and shaking and being consoled by my mother, I noticed a ground bee (aka: yellow jacket) circling my feet. With a scream, I ran upstairs and barricaded myself in my room to include shoving a towel in the crack under to door to prevent the bee from following me. I spent the rest of the day locked in my room, stricken with fear.
There are other stories. Our Husky getting into a ground bees nest while walking the property that became the future family homestead. Disturbing a nest while inspecting a tree house at a home my parents were thinking of buying in
As I grew older, my outward reaction decreased, but the internal reaction remained the same: uncontrollable fear. A fear based on a childhood conversation long lost in the file-cabinets of my mind, but remembered on a sub-conscious, instinctive level. Common sense dictated that stings, while painful, were not fatal, yet there was no convincing my conscious mind of that fact.
Why then, was there any desire to get into beekeeping? I wish it was based on an initial desire to overcome my fear, but the reality is far less impressive: I was wooed by the science of honeybees. That fascination grew into education and the more I learned, less intimidating they became.
But educating myself did not completely cure my fear and even now, after years of keeping bees, I occasionally feel the rise of panic when things get busy in the hive. That being said, the fact that the hive and it's 60,000 some-odd inhabitants does not terrify me anymore is a personal milestone. Having spent time with honeybees up close, I now understand their nature more than I did when I was 4 and that, more than anything, is reason enough not to fear their sting.
One caveat: as of this posting, I've yet to be stung by my girls. I am still fearful of the day when, not if, it happens, but experience has helped me overcome the irrational fears and follow a road I would never have taken years ago.
Lessons learned from experience:
Honeybees, unlike hornets, wasps, and yellow jackets, are not aggressive. Unless you threaten the hive or attempt to squash one in your hand, they won't normally attack. There may be times when they get extra defensive (i.e. late summer as the nectar flow winds to a close, evening when more bees are in the hive, rainy days, etc), but by and large, the hive usually has more important things on its mind. Mine barely notices me when I work it.
Honeybees are curious. Pop the top on a hive and you'll have hundreds of girls come out to see what's going on. If it's chilly, they'll take a break on your suit to warm up. They like to investigate, will bump your veil to say "hello" and will wiggle into cuffs, under shirts, or up your sleeves if able. Slow movements and a keen eye for where they are keeps everyone happy.
Stings kill the bee, therefore it is a last-ditch option. Given a choice, their natural reaction in "the wild" (aka more than 20 or so feet from the hive) is to run. Foragers are usually more concerned with getting the nectar or pollen they've harvested back to the hive than they are trying to sting you.
In the end, it's hard to explain a fear to yourself. Rational thought and common sense usually take a back seat to inexplicable emotions. But with a little education and a willingness to take a risk, you may open the door to a fascinating new hobby.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
The Population Boom
Since Spring is just around the corner, now is the time to prepare for the inevitable population explosion that your hive will experience once temperatures remain above 50 degrees. Depending on your breed of bee, the speed of this boom will vary. Carniolans (which I keep), maintain a small cluster but explode in a short period of time while Italians, who have a larger winter cluster, are slower by comparison. No matter which ones you keep, your girls will run out of room unless you're ready. The key to providing them the space they need is your woodenware.
Several lessons learned from past seasons and the population boom are:
1) Have a lot of spare supers and frames. If you think you need 7 supers this year, you'll actually need 10. Between the sudden build-up of bees, wear and tear on supers/frames, and your annual swap of foundation, you'll run out of gear quickly.
2) New foundation. It is generally recommended to swap out comb every two to three years. If you started a hive of brand new foundation last year, you may want to swap 30% of the comb out this season. That way you are always changing only 1/3 of the comb which is easier for you and the bees. An easy way to keep track of foundation is to write the year you install it on the topbar of the frame.
3) Repair/Repaint: 99% of supers and frames are made out of pine these days. It's a fast-growing wood which means it's light as well, but also not very durable. If you painted or stained the exterior of the super, you'll have more life out of it, however pine will never be as durable as oak or hickory. That being said, make sure to check your supers and frames for wear and tear. Pay special attention to the bottom board since it takes the worst beating from the elements. Replace, repair, or repaint whatever needs fixin'.
4) Chow: Spring will bring lots of new pollen for the girls and they'll spend the first few weeks restocking the larder. You can help them with some pollen patties placed on the inner cover. I try not to use too much since I'd rather they learn to deal with what's available, but every now and then it's okay to give them a little boost.
5) Swarms: At this point, the queen is back to laying eggs which means in a few weeks, you'll have a lot more girls inside the hive than you do now. Given another couple of weeks and the population will rapidly be on the rise. That being said, the bees will be loading spare cells with pollen, nectar, etc, and will run out of room quickly. Lack of space will likely drive them to swarm, so keeping ahead of them with supers is key. Make sure they have plenty of room (without adding too much) and check the bottom of the frames for swarm cells (queen cells which look like peanut shells). It's very difficult to convince the hive it doesn't need to swarm once they've made up their mind to do so, therefore staying ahead of the ballgame is key.
Despite the cold and snow, now is the time to make sure your girls have everything they need for the population boom they'll experience in the next two months. Proper planning will help minimize issues and keep them happy. And happy bees will make you a happy keeper.
Several lessons learned from past seasons and the population boom are:
1) Have a lot of spare supers and frames. If you think you need 7 supers this year, you'll actually need 10. Between the sudden build-up of bees, wear and tear on supers/frames, and your annual swap of foundation, you'll run out of gear quickly.
2) New foundation. It is generally recommended to swap out comb every two to three years. If you started a hive of brand new foundation last year, you may want to swap 30% of the comb out this season. That way you are always changing only 1/3 of the comb which is easier for you and the bees. An easy way to keep track of foundation is to write the year you install it on the topbar of the frame.
3) Repair/Repaint: 99% of supers and frames are made out of pine these days. It's a fast-growing wood which means it's light as well, but also not very durable. If you painted or stained the exterior of the super, you'll have more life out of it, however pine will never be as durable as oak or hickory. That being said, make sure to check your supers and frames for wear and tear. Pay special attention to the bottom board since it takes the worst beating from the elements. Replace, repair, or repaint whatever needs fixin'.
4) Chow: Spring will bring lots of new pollen for the girls and they'll spend the first few weeks restocking the larder. You can help them with some pollen patties placed on the inner cover. I try not to use too much since I'd rather they learn to deal with what's available, but every now and then it's okay to give them a little boost.
5) Swarms: At this point, the queen is back to laying eggs which means in a few weeks, you'll have a lot more girls inside the hive than you do now. Given another couple of weeks and the population will rapidly be on the rise. That being said, the bees will be loading spare cells with pollen, nectar, etc, and will run out of room quickly. Lack of space will likely drive them to swarm, so keeping ahead of them with supers is key. Make sure they have plenty of room (without adding too much) and check the bottom of the frames for swarm cells (queen cells which look like peanut shells). It's very difficult to convince the hive it doesn't need to swarm once they've made up their mind to do so, therefore staying ahead of the ballgame is key.
Despite the cold and snow, now is the time to make sure your girls have everything they need for the population boom they'll experience in the next two months. Proper planning will help minimize issues and keep them happy. And happy bees will make you a happy keeper.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Winter Wonderland
Beekeepers all over the country have had it rough the past few winters. Between the infestation of varorra mites, the mysterious Colony Collapse Disorder, to the growth of the small hive beetle (SHB), the cold months between fall and the first days of Spring can be troubling. Winter is a difficult time for both keeper and bees in no part because there is a lot of waiting. Waiting for snow to melt, waiting for temperatures to rise, waiting to check and see if a colony is still alive.
But that does not mean that as keepers we cannot give our girls a fighting chance. Below are some lessons learned from last season and this one. Lessons that, having failed to execute one or two, may mean the difference between my girls living and dying this season.
1) Fall feeding: It’s hard to think about next Fall when there is snow on the ground, but better to have a game plan in mind for the coming season. Both last year and this year the honeybees went into winter with more than 50 pounds of honey reserves which I felt was adequate to feed them during the winter months. Last year the bees apparently starved to death despite 20 pounds of honey still available. Perhaps this was due to the extreme cold or perhaps the long, long months when I was unable to reposition frames of honey up against the brood. This season, the bees went into winter with similar stores, but when the Fiancee and I checked on them in October, they’d eaten everything. Based on this experience, I fully intend to begin feeding heavy syrup (2:1 sugar to water) the moment the nectar flow has ceased (between late July and mid August). With any luck, this will allow the girls ample food to store for the winter.
2) New Mouse Guards: Currently I employ 8-gauge mesh over the entrance with small openings on the ends, however each year the bees seem to have issues figuring out how to enter from the sides. Additionally, the mesh is annoying to deal with, so it may be time to employ a better system. Most beekeeping companies carry decent mouse guards with holes in the front that allows you to open and close as the bees require (based on activity), however I have found these difficult to install and operate. I’ll conduct some more research, but may just build one that better fits the entrance.
3) Winter Feed: As stated in a previous post, once the weather gets cold, keepers should feed bee candy rather than syrup. Syrup can freeze which creates the equivalent of a large block of ice at the top of the hive (for hive-top feeders). This can chill/kill brood and bees in general. Additionally, as the syrup freezes, it may crack the feeder. When it begins to melt, the liquid will drip into the hive. I repeat this because 9 times out of 10, the bees will no longer go into the "pantry" for liquid food.
Instead, winter feeding should consist of bee candy. Below is the recipe from Wikibooks I use and the girls have responded favorably to it. This can be found on Wikibooks, so I cannot claim credit for it. The link to it is: (http://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/Beekeeping/Recipes_for_the_Bees)I
Ingredients:
2:1.5 sugar to water (i.e. 2 cups sugar to 1.5 cups of water)
2 Tbs Corn Syrup (do not use dark corn syrup. It has molasses which is harmful to the bees. I use Karo Light)
1/8 tsp Cream of Tartar
Dissolve the sugar in water and stir until water is clear (or sugar is completely dissolved). Continue heating the sugar water checking it regularly with a candy thermometer until it reaches 236-240 degrees (note: this boils much of the water out of the mixture). Transfer the syrup to a large mixing bowl and allow to cool. I recommend a porcelain bowl instead of a metal one simply because the metal will be scalding to the touch. Once the mixture cools enough to touch, whip with a whisk or fork until it begins to thicken. Pour immediately into molds or onto wax paper and allow to cool. (Caution: as you whip the mixture, it will harden quickly until it becomes solid. Just be careful that you don't have it solidify inside the bowl because it is a pain to get out.) Once cooled, you can freeze/store for a while. Personally, I place it into a Ziploc bag and crush it into tiny pieces. This makes it easy to "pour" into the hole of the inner cover when it's cold outside. Others like to squash it and then place the entire patty on the top of the brood frames. Whatever your bees prefer.
There are a lot of ways to feed the candy and below is a photo of how I fed mine. It was a relatively warm day (50 degrees), but I kept the inner cover on while breaking up the candy and putting it around the hole. The girls came up and immediately started snacking. I kicked a few small pieces into the hole just for good measure.
4) Patience: It’s hard to wait. You want to check on the girls and make sure they are okay. If temperatures are below 50, cracking the hive open is a bad idea. Instead, read up in magazines, books, and blogs or build/repair equipment for the coming season. Additionally, get your woodenware and nuc/package orders in early since suppliers often run out in the Spring. If you’re really desperate to check on the girls, you can press your ear against the brood super and listen for activity. A healthy hive should have a low hum to it.
Winter can be long for both the bees and the keeper. Get them ready early and then make sure you have all the supplies necessary to help them when the weather permits. With lot of effort and a luck, the following Spring you’ll have a healthy, strong hive.
But that does not mean that as keepers we cannot give our girls a fighting chance. Below are some lessons learned from last season and this one. Lessons that, having failed to execute one or two, may mean the difference between my girls living and dying this season.
1) Fall feeding: It’s hard to think about next Fall when there is snow on the ground, but better to have a game plan in mind for the coming season. Both last year and this year the honeybees went into winter with more than 50 pounds of honey reserves which I felt was adequate to feed them during the winter months. Last year the bees apparently starved to death despite 20 pounds of honey still available. Perhaps this was due to the extreme cold or perhaps the long, long months when I was unable to reposition frames of honey up against the brood. This season, the bees went into winter with similar stores, but when the Fiancee and I checked on them in October, they’d eaten everything. Based on this experience, I fully intend to begin feeding heavy syrup (2:1 sugar to water) the moment the nectar flow has ceased (between late July and mid August). With any luck, this will allow the girls ample food to store for the winter.
2) New Mouse Guards: Currently I employ 8-gauge mesh over the entrance with small openings on the ends, however each year the bees seem to have issues figuring out how to enter from the sides. Additionally, the mesh is annoying to deal with, so it may be time to employ a better system. Most beekeeping companies carry decent mouse guards with holes in the front that allows you to open and close as the bees require (based on activity), however I have found these difficult to install and operate. I’ll conduct some more research, but may just build one that better fits the entrance.
3) Winter Feed: As stated in a previous post, once the weather gets cold, keepers should feed bee candy rather than syrup. Syrup can freeze which creates the equivalent of a large block of ice at the top of the hive (for hive-top feeders). This can chill/kill brood and bees in general. Additionally, as the syrup freezes, it may crack the feeder. When it begins to melt, the liquid will drip into the hive. I repeat this because 9 times out of 10, the bees will no longer go into the "pantry" for liquid food.
Instead, winter feeding should consist of bee candy. Below is the recipe from Wikibooks I use and the girls have responded favorably to it. This can be found on Wikibooks, so I cannot claim credit for it. The link to it is: (http://en.wikibooks.org/wiki/Beekeeping/Recipes_for_the_Bees)I
Ingredients:
2:1.5 sugar to water (i.e. 2 cups sugar to 1.5 cups of water)
2 Tbs Corn Syrup (do not use dark corn syrup. It has molasses which is harmful to the bees. I use Karo Light)
1/8 tsp Cream of Tartar
Dissolve the sugar in water and stir until water is clear (or sugar is completely dissolved). Continue heating the sugar water checking it regularly with a candy thermometer until it reaches 236-240 degrees (note: this boils much of the water out of the mixture). Transfer the syrup to a large mixing bowl and allow to cool. I recommend a porcelain bowl instead of a metal one simply because the metal will be scalding to the touch. Once the mixture cools enough to touch, whip with a whisk or fork until it begins to thicken. Pour immediately into molds or onto wax paper and allow to cool. (Caution: as you whip the mixture, it will harden quickly until it becomes solid. Just be careful that you don't have it solidify inside the bowl because it is a pain to get out.) Once cooled, you can freeze/store for a while. Personally, I place it into a Ziploc bag and crush it into tiny pieces. This makes it easy to "pour" into the hole of the inner cover when it's cold outside. Others like to squash it and then place the entire patty on the top of the brood frames. Whatever your bees prefer.
There are a lot of ways to feed the candy and below is a photo of how I fed mine. It was a relatively warm day (50 degrees), but I kept the inner cover on while breaking up the candy and putting it around the hole. The girls came up and immediately started snacking. I kicked a few small pieces into the hole just for good measure.
4) Patience: It’s hard to wait. You want to check on the girls and make sure they are okay. If temperatures are below 50, cracking the hive open is a bad idea. Instead, read up in magazines, books, and blogs or build/repair equipment for the coming season. Additionally, get your woodenware and nuc/package orders in early since suppliers often run out in the Spring. If you’re really desperate to check on the girls, you can press your ear against the brood super and listen for activity. A healthy hive should have a low hum to it.
Winter can be long for both the bees and the keeper. Get them ready early and then make sure you have all the supplies necessary to help them when the weather permits. With lot of effort and a luck, the following Spring you’ll have a healthy, strong hive.
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