Stirring Up The Hive

Saturday, June 29, 2013

From the outside, the bee hive seems to be doing fine.  Bees in. Bees out. Bees in. Bees out. Day, after day, after day.

If you're brave enough to get close to the hive - say within five feet - you can see the sacks on the hind legs of the worker bees filled with stuff. So much stuff it looks like they're wearing a super-miniature tennis ball on their eye-lash-like back legs. Amazing to watch.

But I digress.  As we know, a beekeeper can't just count on the external signs to know whether everything is happening like it is supposed to inside the hive.  She has to open the hive periodically to inspect it.

Twenty days since I last opened the hive, so today was the day to crack it open and have another, closer look.

Gear on. Bee-supply bucket handy.  Smoker lit. Here we go.
 

Having A Look

Is it possible? There are even more bees in the hive this time than last!

The top super is pretty light - other than a couple of handfuls of worker bees -  and goes off to the side with no problem.  The girls are drawing out the comb, but no signs of nectar, nor pollen in the top super.  And, of course, no larvae because the last time I worked the hive, I put the queen excluder on before adding the top super, so the queen can't lay in these cells.  

The second super from the top is heavy and takes some effort pry off and set aside.  I'll take a closer look at it in a few minutes.

As I was taught, I pry loose one of the frames in the third super and set it aside. This creates room for separating and lifting out the other frames.  One by one I have a look and they look great. Loaded with nectar and honey and pollen and presumably larvae. (Though, I admit, my eye still isn't trained well enough to consistently distinguish which cells are larvae cells.)  Some of the honey is capped. Some is not. No sign of the queen in this super.

And Then It Happens

Bees - hundreds of them - are buzzing all around me while I work. Angry at my intrusion. (And in my mind, I'm thinking, I'm safe. I'm wearing all the gear - hat, gloves, jumpsuit, closed shoes. All good. Just a bunch of bees buzzing around me. All good.)

Before I retrieve the second super to inspect it, I realize there's something buzzing around INSIDE my Orkin-man-style bee suit.

Ouch! Ouch again! 

Beeswax! Two bees have infiltrated my protective gear. Yes, I squished them both. Needlessly, I know, because once they stung me, their stingers were gone, and they could do no more harm to me.  But when you're in a tiny panic, well...

I meticulously sealed the velcro that cinches up the veil to the jumpsuit and made a mental note: secure your protective gear all the way next time, goofball!

Rookie mistake. And now, I can nolonger say that I haven't been stung.

There She Is!

Embarrassed about my mistake, but not really hurt, I turn my attention back to that second super. Remove a frame and start working my way through. Same thing: Capped honey. Uncapped honey. Pollen. And bees. Lots and lots of bees! 
At about the third or fourth frame in, on the far side of the frame, I spot her. The Queen, with her marquee red dot!

















Isn't she lovely! Isn't she beautiful! 
 
I hear the Miss America tune in my head as I watch my Queen glide across her honey combed stage, with her entourage in tow.

Nothing left to do now but put the hive back together and close it up. 

Footnote: I have to say, more than just the two bees (that were inside my gear) died during the commission of today's inspection.

There are just so many more of them now!  When I restacked the supers, some bees that were on the edges were squished to death from the weight of the supers.  I tried to swish them into -or out of - the hive, but it's not a perfect science.

Must purchase a bee brush to see if that helps next time.  
 

The hive still stirred up over the intrusion.