Of Bees and Life

 January 11, 2021

My bees have been sequestered in their hives since Thanksgiving. When the temperature dips below around 50 degrees, they stay inside. As the temperature drops, they cluster, crowding closer and closer to each other, surrounding the queen and keeping her warm by vibrating the wing muscles in their backs. Tighter and tighter they crowd, keeping her warm in a cluster the size of a soccer ball, moving vertically only about a centimeter per day. Bees don’t actually hibernate, and as the solstice passes, along about the end of January, the queen begins laying eggs again, building the population for spring with its sudden profusion of flowers and nectar.

My three colonies reside in what’s called a Langstroth hive, named after the Rev. Lorenzo Lorraine Langstroth, who developed the moveable frame beehive in the mid 1800s. Prior to his invention, bees were kept in logs or straw skeps, the honey removed by destroying the colony. His brainchild allowed honey to be harvested without destroying the nest, insuring a continual and reliable source of honey. The Langstroth hive became the industry standard, as they could be readily transported to supply orchards and farms with pollination.

They do have their drawbacks, however. They are relatively thin-walled, which in colder climates make survival of the colony more precarious. They require more intensive and invasive management, and in recent years, the arrival of the virus-laden Varroa mite has devastated apiaries all over the world. Pest management is almost a full-time job.

Into this apiary climate has come in recent years a re-evaluation of the entire process of modern beekeeping. Some old practices are getting a second look, with the hives of Emile Warre or George de Layens garnering attention for their ease of operation and ability to overwinter.

My point in this little apiary history lesson is that we are always learning, and the practices that everyone knows are just the way things are, are not necessarily the best. Sometimes we need to step back and ask ourselves if our present course of action and belief the best we can do. I had a friend gently take me to task recently about some things I had said to another friend. I had convinced myself I was simply playing devil’s advocate, trying to promote a broader view, but realized instead that I was actually pushing my opinions and perspectives on someone who didn’t really need to hear it at the time. So I repented, confessed, and asked forgiveness, which was freely given. Sometimes we need to be challenged to rethink our habits and actions. We seldom do so all on our own, so I am thankful tonight for someone willing to help me see the error of my ways, and that a different approach may prove healthier and more productive. I trust it will both in my relationships and in keeping my bees.