On Sabbatical
Neither Queen Xanthe’s nor Queen Uma’s colony have made it through to this new season. Queen Xanthe’s bees showed no life signs since February, and the number of flying bees from Queen Uma’s colony fell rather than rose with the warming spring weather. When I opened Queen Uma’s hive in early April, the bees were all motionless on the combs. They appeared dead, and although some were alive (moving in my hand when I warmed them with my breath) they were barely so.
Post mortem examinations showed the bees still mostly in cluster formation in the centre of the hive. Queen Xanthe’s bees were a small group, scarcely a handspan. Ultimately they probably died of cold, being too few to keep warm, and too weak to raise new bees for spring. Queen Uma’s bees had been a stronger colony, and I couldn’t say for sure why they died but I suspect they had been weakened by disease and thus eventually met the same fate as Queen Xanthe’s. The colonies didn’t starve - their sugar boards were barely touched and they still had their own stores.
This is the first time I’ve lost colonies over winter, so it’s been all or nothing - this time nothing.
It’s been an easy decision to take a break from active beekeeping and to use the time to make sure all traces of disease are gone before new bees take residence. I’ve plenty to do with sorting out beekeeping kit, processing beeswax, and studying. And the garden is still buzzing with a variety of bee species.
I wondered whether my status is now “ex-beekeeper”. The term doesn’t feel right. A singer is still a singer when they are between songs. I’m a beekeeper, on sabbatical.
I stooped to graverobbing. This heavy comb of ivy honey (one of many) is from Queen Uma’s hive.