Know a thing or two... Bees

WHAT’S THE BUZZ ALL ABOUT? HERE’S A HIVE OF INFORMATION

Since the very dawn of civilisation, man has been in awe of the honeybee, its peaceful communal existence and ability to create honey. Prehistoric cave art painted by bushmen in southern Africa depicts bees and their nests, and the insect even features in their creation mythology. Throughout the course of thousands of years, in almost every ancient culture, we encounter the bee. The mythology of bees is as rich as their honey, with folklore and parable aplenty across all cultures and religions. The exact reasons and origins remain unclear, but most likely its root is a basic human admiration for the industry and cooperation of the hive as an entity, along with its creation of such a delicious and sweet substance, seemingly from nothing.

The first recorded references to organised apiculture, rather than honey-hunting, which usually involved the dismantling of a wild nest, date back to Egyptian times, where the creatures were held in high, near mystical regard. Jars made of Nile mud, reeds and twigs were used to house the bees and by 1500BCE, beekeeping was taking place on a huge scale. As time progressed, techniques changed but all still eventually ended up in the seemingly unavoidable destruction of the hive at the time of the honey harvest. It wasn’t until the 18th century that a new design of hive finally allowed for honey to be removed without damage to the colony. Modern beekeeping was born.

With scientific advancements came the realisation that bees had a crucial role to play in the pollination of plants, and as such, their importance in agriculture became as clear as golden honey in high summer.

Today, apiculture is seen as the very root of global food production, and the fulcrum of environmental concerns. Mankind’s worry is now not whether there will be honey for breakfast tomorrow, but whether there will, in fact, be breakfast tomorrow.

RETURN OF THE BEEKEEPER

In the UK, home beekeeping has risen in popularity again, after a period of decline. Those keen to help support the beleaguered honeybee, now virtually unknown in the wild due to decline and disease, have begun to embrace the baggy white cotton suits and silly, but very necessary broad-brimmed netted hats that are still the protective costume of the apiculturist. And it’s not just in the countryside. City-dwellers are placing hives on roofs, where their denizens can take advantage of exotic urban gardens to create equally unusual honey. The rise in urban beekeeping has eclipsed that of rural apiculture.

THE ROYAL FAMILY

Beekeeping is as simple and yet simultaneously complex as the hive itself. An hour’s inspection once a week is all the care and attention usually required, and yet if something goes wrong, or the colony looks like they’re about to follow their wild instincts and swarm to start again elsewhere, then lengthy preventative measures could be required. The wooden hive – usually made of weather and rot resistant cedar – is home to some 30,000 bees at any given time. A single queen works tirelessly, unceasingly producing eggs for several years, tended exclusively by other females. Sterile female nurse bees look after the eggs and larvae, while worker bees who are older nurse bees go out and forage for pollen and nectar to fill the hive’s larder. The average

worker honeybee lives for just seven weeks. During early summer, if a swarm has happened or is imminent, male drones are created to mate with the new queen who will take over the hive after her predecessor has left. There is a mystique to the swarm. Every early summer panicked phone calls happen all over as large groups of bees are spotted, often hanging from a branch or somewhere inconvenient. These groups are actually as safe and passive as can possibly be. Before leaving the existing hive to establish a new one, the bees consume most of the honey stores in order to provision their departure with their queen. They are focused and well fed, making them docile in the extreme and far from likely to sting, despite their numbers. Should you find a swarm, simply contact the British Beekeepers Association ( bbka.org.uk), whose website has excellent guidance on what to do. Chances are, an excited hooded figure will arrive with surprising speed and take them away to create a new highly prized hive somewhere else. Given that a mated queen alone can cost £35 and a small nucleus colony about £200, it’s hardly surprising that a beekeeper is happy to avail him or herself of ‘free’ bees!

A DUTY OF CARE

Bees are good at looking after themselves, but any beekeeper has a duty of care in certain areas. Preventing and dealing with swarming instincts is one, but more important is keeping the hive healthy and happy. Each spring, before the colony starts to expand again, a thorough clean is needed, placing the frames in a freshly, gently fire-scorched box to kill off pathogens. Pollen, wax and other debris are removed and surfaces scraped of propolis (see ‘Bee Bounty’, right).

In early autumn, after the honey harvest, the colony must be medicated to protect it from the varroa mite, then fed. Taking away months of work, in terms of honey, feels harsh, but glucosebased sugar syrup (simply sugar heated with water) is a good second-best and provides plenty of energy over winter.

All that is left to do then, as the days shorten and the drones have been banished outside the hive to die, is to make everything is secure. Covering the hive with chicken mesh prevents attacks by woodpeckers seeking easy food in winter, and strapping the boxes together is a good idea if badgers or other large animals are likely to lean on the hive or knock it over. Over winter, the bees who remain form a ball which increases or decreases in size depending on temperature. A tighter ball traps more warmth, and vice versa. Cold weather is not a concern, but warm weather is, leaving bees active and using energy at a time when they should be semi-dormant. Then, it’s simply a matter of waiting until the bees have decided it’s spring once again.»

A queen works tirelessly, unceasingly producing eggs for several years