This weekend we will be wrapping the bee hives for their winter break. In the northern parts of the U. S., summer, and most of autumn, are once again gone. Though a hard frost hasn’t coated the windows and weeds yet – except in the far reaches – most of the flowers are finished and only stalks and seed heads remain. Still, there’s a few straggling flowers left in the wettest parts of the fields, sought after by desperate bees but ignored by most for they know those lonely flowers are barren and gone. Nature has little left for the bees. However, on rare days when it warms to over 50… when the sun shines and the wind settles enough… ambitious bees go looking for the last of the season’s wine. It’s in their genes to seek and find.
Two more Steinthal hives overlooking the mill pond. |
This first winter can be daunting for a beekeeper. But then, winters are always daunting… that a box of bugs manages to stay alive, moving, buzzing, raising young, eating, sleeping… when only inches away it’s cold… too cold for them to live… is one of those fascinating mysteries beekeepers revel in.
This weekend we will help them to survive by wrapping the hives with black roof felt, closing up most of the entryway and raising the covers ever so slightly so that condensing moisture doesn’t collect in the hives and drip back on the bees which literally will freeze them to death. They are actually able to keep the temperature in the hive in the mid 90’s during the entire winter. I am also amazed to think that several new cohorts will hatch and that many of those newly hatched workers will live within the confines of the hive, never seeing the light of day only to die before the weather allows a safe escape. The subsequent generations of sister workers will hatch in time to begin the pollen and nectar foraging next spring.
Workers and guards preparing for the upcoming cold season… |
A worker collecting pollen from a mum by the lodge today |