We Need Bees -- So do the French

After five years of fine honey, my hive didn't survive the winter.  After five years of heavy lifting, we are trying out some top bar hives this year.  We have been lucky, as our bees stick close to home and we use no pesticides, so they have been safe and happy. Isolated from infected bees, bad chemicals, and cell phones; all thought to be culprits in colony collapse, the bees flourished with little or no help from me.

As every other country on the planet seems to be banning Monsanto's GMO's and their "miracle" herbicide" Roundup, the US is late to the party.  Yesterday my BFF, Beverly, said she could tell there was a "bee" problem.  It seems like a funny commentary, but she has noticed (or more rightly, not noticed) bees, or the lack there of in her yard.  This time of the year in Alabama, there have always been bees doing their bee job of pollinating the flora.  This year, Beverly has seen only a few bees out and about. 

Here is a new dilemma.  Reuters reported this week that beekeepers in France were getting multicolored honey.  When they investigated, they found that a nearby biogas plant has been processing waste from a Mars candy plant producing M&M's.  The residue from bright red, blue, green, yellow and brown shells is being collected by the bees and incorporated into the hive.

While such bejeweled combs might seem lovely, the resulting garish "honey" is unsellable and inedible.  So beekeepers who's hives have survived all manner of assaults are producing honey that is unusable.  Not to mention, there is no way of knowing what it is doing to the bees.

My guess:  You will soon be seeing Mars M&M honey in a supermarché near you.  It will be much cheaper than the fruits and vegetables that have no bees to pollinate them. 

This summer when you see a weed growing in the crack in your sidewalk, reach down and pull it out.  Don't drive to the hardware store and by something to spray on it unless you want apples at $5 each.

Requiescat in Pace - The Doe Run Farm Hive

The causality of our recent stormy weather was our bee hive. At some point during the 50 mile-an-hour wind, the top blew off and the driving rain drownd the hive.

For six years the hive thrived while others faced mites, hive collapse, and disease.


It survived rain, wind, sleet, hail and even snowmageddon. Every year I would think it was gone, and on the first warm day of spring, bees would emerge and begin hunting for pollen.

Every year it provided honey for the farm and friends. It will be missed.

Swarm...

One of the worst things that can happen to your hive is to let it swarm. In this season of weird weather, it has been difficult. After months of rain, the temperature shot up to 94F. Like everyone else, the bees were hot... too hot. Usually, my bees don't produce gatherable honey until the end of the season. When I checked them recently, there was a lot of honey and not a lot of room. I ordered new frames, but they were delayed and before I could add another super... the heat won.

While it was a sad thing to see the hive swarm, it was a fascinating event to watch. The bees are so focused. they plan their escape. The workers fill up on honey so there is no stopping at the 7-11. They escort the queen to a remote location and then the whole gang follow, in military precision. There is a huge mass of buzzing life during their travel and before you know it, they are settled and congregated around the queen.



While the event looks scary, the bees focus and determination, as well as their full tummies, make them quite calm during the swarm.



Today, the new frames arrived. We will try to recover before the summer ends.