(This is an piece I will submit to someone, sometime when it is finished. For now, edits and comments are welcome. Today is World Bee Day. I am delighted I am a beekeeper!)
I Am A Beekeeper
Most peoples’ identity evolves and changes throughout their
life. Somehow the idea of raising bees
trickles into the back of your consciousness and the next thing you know, you
are pouring over “Beekeeping for Dummies”, thinking, I need to do this.
Before I jumped into the endeavor, however, I assigned my
husband, Mike, the task of reading the entire book, realizing this effort would
be a team effort. There were many
confounding things in this book; diseases, predators, mold, colony collapse and
other unsettling enigmas. I would need help on this project. He read the entire book. I ordered my first bees.
Mike and I are firefighters.
When we met, I watched his volunteer effort at the fire department and
declared I too wanted to be a firefighter.
There is a thing in the fire department about getting bees. “What?
You’re getting bees? Getting
close to retirement then?” And so it
seems to go. We fire folks are attracted
to bee keeping. We like fear and we
understand fire. These two components
serve one well in bee keeping. And yes,
I am getting close to retirement, close to celebrating my twenty year career in
the fire service. Soon there will be
plenty of time to tend my bees.
Those first bees arrived on a warm, sunny Mother’s Day. I took significance from their delivery on
this day, realizing that my “mothering” would be directly related to their
success here in the high Wyoming mountains.
Mike and I loaded the plugged entrance hole cardboard box in the back of
the open pickup truck, secured it in place, and drove to the hive’s
location. With a smoking smoker,
completely suited up, and filled with trepidation, we opened the cardboard lid. The sound of a zillion angry bees filled the
air. This was the moment when every
strand of DNA in my body screamed, “Drop the box! Run for your life!!” I took a deep breath, applied more smoke from
the smoker, and in a short time, the bees had a new home. A bright orange box with their frames moved
inside. Looking back, this may be one of
the easiest starts to a new hobby. At
the time, it was truly terrifying.
In preparation for this new thing in my life, I sought out
the advice of my local Ear, Nose, Throat doctor to see if he could detect any
allergies to bees. “Ah,” he guffawed,
“don’t worry about it! You’re an
EMT! Carry and EpiPen and if you have
any problems, we’ll treat them here!”
This did not quell my anxiety of the inevitable bee sting. It would take over a year to know if I would
react. Full suited in a bee suit,
wearing leather gloves, I was impenetrable.
Looking back, this was a great way to build confidence as the bees and I
became acquainted. I learned the sound
of happy bees and the sound of angry bees.
I watched them flying and learned what it felt like to be hit in the
veil by an angry bee. Finally, one warm summer afternoon, I pulled the gloves
off and got stung. It was a
non-event. No reaction. Hearing that bee stings boost one’s immune
system, I now give a little thanks to my dying friend after getting stung. She was just doing her job in trying to
protect the hive. I admire this kind of
selfless dedication.
For the first year of this endeavor, I could not say “I am a
Beekeeper”. I would say, “I have
bees”. This was a statement of truth and
did not change until a great deal of book reading, class taking, and studying
occurred. There is much to learn about
bees. A recent writing about bees
bragged, “there has been more written about honey bees than any other insect.”
It is impossible to assess how many backyard beekeepers
there are in the United States. Unlike
commercial beekeepers, a hobbyist is not required to register their hives. Definitions of a hobbyist beekeeper range
from one who has five to 25 hives. Many
state statutes define the number of hives to be considered commercial. As an agricultural product, commercial
beekeepers may reap an agricultural tax advantage.
The pandemic hit too late for most budding wanna-be
beekeepers last spring. By the time we
were all locked down, bee packages were delivered or enroute to be delivered,
spoken for since the beginning of the year.
Bees are delivered in either packages or nucs. Packages have several pounds of bees with a
caged queen hung in the center of the package, screened on the sides with a
wooden frame for support. These bees
arrive hungry and ready to start work.
The second delivery, a nuc or nucleus colony, is made in a small
cardboard box holding frames with bees, the Queen, and brood – eggs and larvae
to hatch. Unlike sourdough bread and
gardening, most aspiring beekeepers could only read and dream about
beekeeping. Prices for this year’s bees
increased significantly, probably a reflection of supply and demand.
Beekeeping is a perfect way to find one’s Flow. The author, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, in his
book “Flow” speaks to the importance in a human being’s life to find Flow. It’s that place where you are doing something
and not thinking of anything else but what you are doing. Flow is critical to good mental health. Working with bees, you will think of nothing
else but the bees. It is not uncommon to
think of your bees often, even when not working them. There is a connection built between the bees
and the beekeeper. The beekeeper feels
very responsible for the colonies, their well-being, and ability to withstand
the many things out to get them. For
those lucky enough to have bees during the pandemic, many report the need to
spend time with their bees, to relieve stress, and to get away from the
craziness of 2020 deep within their hives.
Losing a colony of bees is an emotional and financial
loss. Bees, like any other “animal”,
have numerous threats to their survival.
A long, northern US winter is one such threat. Bees do not hibernate for the winter, like,
for example, a grizzly bear. The colony
of bees get very close together and shiver to stay warm. The eat the honey they have stored and what
is left for them. Take away too much
honey and your colony will not have the ability to shiver the long, dark winter
hours away. They will die. This
event is a very distressing event.
Especially for the beekeeper.
The varroa mite, a parasitic creature that literally sucks
the fat out of a bee, is another threat to the humble bee. Even with a small mite count in a colony, the
mites break down the strength of the group.
When a mite attaches to a bee and begins sucking away, the mite also
introduces disease. Understanding mites,
their life cycle, their impact on a colony, and how to destroy these carnivores
without killing the sacred bee is an important study for the beekeeper.
And then there are the nasty spores of Paenibacillus and Melissococcus
plutnius bacterium. Just their names
turns an average beekeeper’s face two shades of white. Commonly referred to as American and European
foulbrood respectively, the bacteria turn healthy glistening white larvae into
a mass of goo. European Foulbrood can be
detrimental; however, American foulbrood creates spores making the introduction
of these spores into a hive a catastrophic event. Everything associated with that hive –
including tools and potentially gear – must be burned to kill the spores of the
insidious, highly contagious and lethal spore-forming bacteria. All it takes is one bee drifting around to bring
the lethal disease to a hive. In urban
areas where hives are sprouting up like restaurants are shutting down, one
infected hive could spell contamination and destruction for many in the
infected colony’s range. A bee can
forage over 8,000 acres. Imagine that
hive on a map and draw a circle two miles out and around.
Foulbrood almost stopped me in my tracks. Fortunately, both American and European
foulbrood are relatively rare. The
beekeeper should always be on the lookout and be aware, however, these bacteria
are no reason to not take up beekeeping.
Recently enrolled in an online beekeeping class, I asked the
instructors what are the most important thing a new beekeeper should know. The first instructor said a beekeeper must
know how to light a smoker and keep it lit.
