Winter Beekeeping
Emerging from the Year of January to let you know we're still here
Each bee senses that her one obligation is to give the smallest motion of her flight muscles to the collective work of keeping the queen and the colony’s honey stores warm. The whole hive knows they will survive only if they shiver together
Some of them in the shivering cluster will die of old age… hatched on the cusp of winter they may live six months. They will know only the dark hive, the press of their sisters’ bodies. They will never fly, never fall into a flower. They give their lives to shivering together in the dark…a music beyond our hearing, sustaining a future for the community.
-Gayle Boss, “All Creation Waits”
Bee Update
We began the winter with 11 hives and are down at least to 10. I kick myself over this lost one, because it was preventable; had I screwed down the entrance reducers, the mice would not have got in. Useful knowledge was gained, however: our dog can indeed catch mice, and possums eat mice and dead bees (but leave the hives alone). The 2 younger girls have convinced me that possums are cute, but I hold that is only true if they have their thick winter coat and if you only view them from the front. I think it best to avoid posting rodent photos here and in general. You’re welcome.
There have been a few bee sightings, when they’ve come out to take cleansing flights and remove their dead. On Christmas Eve, we could hear a couple of the colonies buzzing from inside their hives, so loudly that they were audible from several feet away. This is right and proper, in accordance with bee folklore; they are to hum loudly at Christmas in praise to the newborn King. We chalked their hives on Epiphany, with prayers for their health (as described in this post from last year).
We’re hoping to peek into hives this weekend, to check for life and food stores, now that we have exited the polar vortex and the temperatures of False Spring are predicted. Today is sunny with blue skies and fluffy white clouds, and if I stand very still, there is palpable warmth on my face. It feels like a promise.
Yet again, I have missed the blog's birthday. It turned 4 years old in January. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with it since the beginning and to all who have joined us along the way. Suffice to say that the best people have landed here.
Happy birthday, too, to a most steadfast reader, my brother-in-law. Here are some of the lilies he’s bred and gifted to us:
God willing, and my motivation holding, the next update won’t wait 3 months. In the meantime… How are you wintering this year? Have you started seeds yet? Planning what to grow or perusing seed catalogues? Southern hemisphere friends, how are your plants faring?
Happy Quinquagesima to all who celebrate! (The last Sunday before Lent)
-Erin, in Michigan
Absolutely beautiful, Erin…so wonderful to see you and your bees back!
I loved your Christmas folklore about bees…I’m going to remember that for next Christmas Eve.
And it was news to me, that possums eat mice! When I told my husband about your post, and that I thought possums were herbivores, he chuckled. “Have you seen their teeth?” he said. “They’re like little sabers! They’re not made for crunching, they’re made for shredding meat!”
It seems quite unfair, that the East and Midwest has been slammed so very hard by Old Man Winter, while here in the Pacific Northwest, the last two months been so balmy (relatively) my garlic and daffodils have come up a month early. I hope your bees are benefited by the warmth and sun on the way!
Nice to bee back with you, Substack friend. 😘