April, Second Week

Since my childhood days, I have loved bees. I have spent two days getting the hive painted and set up in a shady grove. The day finally arrives that I am to pick up my bees. Although we lived in the city suburbs, we had a huge back yard. There were many diverse ecosystems in it, including a large field of wildflowers. I specifically remember the blue cornflowers and red poppies. They were great, but my favorites were the happy buzzing bees. I would even catch them in a jar, so I could examine them closely. Then I would let them go.

Those days were the impetus that caused me to think that having bees in my life would be wonderful. When I lived in Sedona, thanks to the local honey man, I was able to realize that dream. Richard had a beehive that he had established from bees taken from the eaves of a house. He set it up for me, plus gave me all the bee-handling equipment at an incredibly low price. However, due to the scorching heat, it was a bad year for bees; even the experts lost over half their hives. One hot day I went out and found all my bees hovering in a big ball on the side of the hive, then they disappeared. They took off for cooler climes, I suppose.

So today will be my first experience actually ordering the bees and establishing them in a hive by myself. I enjoy a wonderful drive past field after field of fresh bright bluebonnets, laced with orange Indian paintbrush and yellow gualardia. I speak with several experts about the procedure and feel that I am ready to try it on my own. I really am not. The task is trickier than I imagine—but sometimes you just have to jump in.

The movie Ulees’ Gold made everyone aware of the skill and work required in beekeeing, as well as the satisfaction. However, it did not reveal the tedious part. To help the bees in establishing themselves in a hive, you place racks with sheets of wax to encourage them to start building comb. First, I have to remove the old wax, then scrape down the wooden rack. Bees use a kind of glue to keep their hive secure; it is really rough stuff. After scraping the old residue off, I have to remove a tiny strip of wood, then put the new wax sheet in place. Then I replace the wood strip to hold the wax in place. I only have one hive, twenty frames; ten for the establishment of the nursery and ten for the apartment on top for the honey. I will not add the compartment for honey until later when the nursery is thriving.

After I release the bees into my hive, I am particularly anxious because I don’t think I let the queen out of her box precisely as instructed. Not wanting to bother them, I have to wait for several days before any checking. Daily I put out jars of sugar water to keep them happy until they discover the local food sources that are blooming throughout the woods.

By the third day, I am on pins and needles to find out what is going on inside the hive. I put on my white coveralls, get my smoker stoked up, and then gently and conscientiously take the lid off the hive. One by one, I lift out the racks that hold the delicate wax foundations. The bees have definitely started building their little hexagon designs of wax. I carefully put the racks back in place in the exact order I found them, so the bees will have a minimum of disturbance. Then I promise them I will not disturb them for another two weeks. That will give them time to set up their nursery, which is their first order of business.

It is a beautiful sight to see the bees constructing their nursery, then surrounding the larvae with honey and pollen so that their food is readily available. Every bee knows just how to arrange everything, as if by prior agreement. However, I’m not sure about Teilhard de Chardin’s model citing bees as a perfect society because of their ability to work together for a common goal.

Aside from the fact that their “common goal” is only to perpetuate themselves, they definitely have a fixed hierarchy. The drones don’t do anything except lie around and impregnate the queen. She does work, for she is the only one who can lay the eggs. When she starts getting old, or the hive gets too small for the number of bees, the workers start creating another queen. They select an egg cell and designate it the winner by feeding it royal jelly. This food makes the queen distinct, even in appearance. She has a longer body, but with shorter wings.

When I feed the bees each morning and evening, I notice that gradually they have started coming and going from the hive. Although a small meadow of wildflowers is right beside them, I never see a single bee in it. Fragrant honeysuckle has burst into bloom everywhere and spirea shrubs are blooming in the woods, so they must prefer that nectar.

One evening I am out in the wildflower patch by the deck pulling out the grass that is trying to overtake the seedlings. I pause as I hear a heavy buzzing sound. Sure enough, one bee, then two, are circling around scouting the territory. The bees don’t just go out ad hoc without a plan. The scouts go out to find a good feeding spot, then return with directions for the gatherers.

The next morning, I am delighted to see three or four bees hovering in the flowers of the spiderwort that surrounds the deck. The blossoms hold a lot of pollen, so the tiny back legs of the bees are globbed with big yellow balls. I am amazed that the extra baggage does not seem to affect their flight at all.

Then I notice that they are not the only bees who like the translucent purple flowers. Several, about a fourth the size of the honeybee, are bright iridescent green. They love the pollen too, for their little legs are loaded with the yellow cargo, making a striking visual contrast with the green body. Another bee, one-eighth the size of the honeybee, has decorated himself with orange and black stripes.

At that moment, a bumblebee, all decked out in his wide yellow and black stripes, shows up and lands on my bare arm. What a whopper of a stinger this giant of the bee family must bear! Obviously, I am not interested in experiencing its power firsthand. Gingerly, I blow on it to send it on its way. The bee happily cooperates and heads for the nearest flower.

I continue to give my bees a pint of sugar water every day to supplement their diet until they have established their own feeding grounds. Supposedly, bees are able to sense your vibration, so if you are excited, they get excited. If you are relaxed, they hardly seem to notice you, which is a real incentive to keep cool and conscious. The bees seem to accept my presence when I open the top of their box and carefully replace the jar of sugar water; therefore, I don't have to take the time to suit up.

I keep bees for the joy of their presence, so I’m not concerned about honey. However, I would prefer for them to pollinate the tomatoes, peppers and cucumbers in my garden, so the hive is placed nearby. Bees are an essential item in any garden, but the truth is I haven’t seen a bee anywhere near my garden. I have no idea how to coax them over. Our honey bees were originally imported from Italy, so the plants of the Americas originally got pollinated by all the various other insects that I have been noticing, including bee varieties that don’t produce honey. Nature knows how to take care of its creation in innumerable ways.