About this Blog

May 2013

Sun, 12 May 2013 10:26:47 -0500

This has been a lovely spring so far in Texas. Still, even today, it is cool enough this morning to button the top button, which is rare and wonderful. We have essentially two seasons here, summer and not summer. I am very glad that it is still not summer.

All my strong hives swarmed this year, as I discovered when I went in to see about honey this last week. Five to ten thousand bees filling their bellies before a swarm makes a huge dent in supplies, but that is what they live for, after all. How else do they reproduce, expand their line? I am happy to know that there are several new colonies of strong bees out in the world, even if I am poorer in honey.

My job (yours, too) is helping the bee, and profiting indirectly from the relationship. More bees in the world to help the plants be more fruitful is profit, the same way (or more so) than getting a bit of extra honey. The honey does educate the public to the wonders of the bee and of beekeeping, of course. Though I do sell a little I give most of mine away. It’s not mine, after all.

By the way, this blog is quite popular. I have counted 5,000 to 10,000 hits a year and from 50 countries. Thanks!

Ask questions!

--love, Jack

Spring 2013

Mon, 25 Mar 2013 20:36:28 -0500

Thanks for coming to this blog! I am excited for the bees and the new chance they have to survive and thrive. Already I have heard of a swarm, though I don’t believe it. My bees are gushing out with joy, and then are hanging on to the front of their hive in drunken wonder of where they are and how they can get back inside, but this is not swarming. This is joy and irrational exuberance. I sweep them so they may fly home, and not hang there until they chill, the nights here still getting to freezing.

I had a visit from Jake & Eliza this month. That awkward picture above there is of Eliza and me for our book, Beekeeping for Eliza. Here is one of the two of them, Eliza with bees on her sweater.

It is so great when young people show no fear for the world. Of course, we can teach them otherwise, but let’s don’t.

This is the week for taking off extra honey, adding supers, taking away supers of tiny colonies, and hoping for the best. I hope you will ask questions, and keep doing your best!

--love, Jack

The Council of the Bees

Sun, 18 Nov 2012 10:52:59 -0600

Thanks for coming to this blog! You may know that I have been writing about bees for children. My book, Beekeeping for Eliza, is available as an e-book with lovely illustrations. Search the title, or just click in this paragraph for it. The illustration above, like several others, was made by Lan-Thach Kratzke.

Here, down below, is my third story for younger people. The first was called The Shimmering Bee Coat (in the archive from August 19). The second was Swimming Bees (from October 14). I hope to write six such stories, to be read to a younger child (rather than read by them), perhaps finishing one a month. I’ll post them when I have them.

Here’s the third, then. Thanks for reading!

The Council of the Bees

Long ago, when humans had only just begun to walk upright under the stars, the Bees called a great council. They could see the way of things, and knew that they were in trouble. Their brothers the Wasps and Hornets were stronger and more fierce than they, and their sisters the Ants were more numerous and crafty. The Bees looked to the future, and wondered how they would survive the hard centuries.

Many ideas were proposed at the council, but one seemed most fruitful. What if perhaps they could unite with the Humans? Wouldn't this make their lives somewhat easier by being partnered with another strong family of beings?

"For the Humans have a way of understanding the world," they spoke, "and those in their care will thrive with them. Likewise, those they despise suffer greatly."

It was agreed that, for the sake of their survival, the Bees would partner with the Humans if they could. But at what cost? What would the Bees have to sacrifice? And what could they offer so that the Humans would agree to befriend them?

"I don't see why the Humans would want to be our partners," said many. "What could we offer them in return for their protection? We are not active at night, so we can not guard their homes like the dog. We are not large enough to pull or carry anything for them like the horse. Most of the Humans are actually afraid of us, so we can not give them comfort by simply sitting near them like the cat."

"Perhaps there is something we make that they could use," suggested one. "Do we have a warm coat like the sheep? Can we make a milk like the cow and goat?"

"No, but we could offer them our nectar, that they call honey. We could make more than we need and share it with them."

"We would have to work very hard to make enough honey to share. And we would need more room for the extra honey," they said. "We would have to make more wax to build more honey comb. All day long we would have to gather nectar, and all night we would need to build comb and dry the nectar into honey. Our queen would need to lay eggs day and night, never sleeping, to make enough bees to do the work."

"These things we can do if the Humans would care for us, and protect us from the warring ants and the robbing wasps and hornets. We would gladly work for them if they made us homes to keep us dry and warm in the winter, and treated us with respect as partners in this life."

So there was agreement among the Bees to work harder and share the fruits of their labor with the Humans in return for their protection. But there was still a concern. "How do we let the Humans know about our agreement? And how can we trust them to not take all of our nectar and leave us with nothing?"

Another said, "With the great amounts of honey we will be storing, we will have to protect ourselves from all greedy animals, Humans, bears, skunks and raccoons. We should think of a way to know which Humans are our partners, and which are trying to rob us."

"Let us go to them in their dreams and introduce ourselves. All living things dream, and we all talk to each other in our dreaming. We can tell them there about our wish to partner with them, and we can teach them a password that only our friends will know."

One objected, "But they don't speak our language! When they wake from our dream, how will they say any password we teach them?"

It was quiet for a while. "Well, the Humans make fire. They are the only beings who can do this thing," one very smart bee said. "Let us tell them in their dreams to make their bodies smell of smoke. We will tell them that smoke is the password, and If there is someone taking our honey who smells of smoke, we will know they are our friends."

"But if you tell them this thing, what will prevent them from taking all our nectar?" Many bees asked this question. "If we teach them our password, they will have the power to hurt us."

It was quiet for a long time. "You are right. They will know how to take what we are offering," said one. "There is a risk that the Humans will not be honorable partners, that they will use the password of smoke yet still treat us badly. However, without their help, we risk death all the same.

"Let us join with them as we have agreed. Although there may be some who treat us badly, among the Humans there will also be many who will be honorable. We will uphold our half of the partnership, in any case."

So it was agreed. And since then, and as long as there have been Bees, and as long as there will be Bees, they will allow anyone who smells of smoke to enter their hives and take their honey. Let us hope that the Humans are worthy of the honor the Bees have granted in sharing their password in our dreams.

***

Swimming Bees

Sun, 14 Oct 2012 15:20:58 -0500

You may know that I have been writing about bees for children. My book, Beekeeping for Eliza, is available as an e-book with lovely illustrations. Search the title, or just click in this paragraph for it. The illustration above, like several others, was made by Lan-Thach Kratzke.

Here, down below, is my second story for younger people. The first was called The Shimmering Bee Coat (in the archive from August 19). I hope to write six such stories, to be read to a younger child (rather than read by them), perhaps finishing one a month. I’ll post them when I have them.

Here’s the second, then. Thanks for reading!

Swimming Bees

The bees at the birdbath near the back door of the keeper's house were having a debate one warm day about water.
"I like to drink the dew on top of the rocks," said a rather cautious bee. "I taste a little bit of the rock that way, and it makes the water more refreshing."
"Water, you say? But there's hardly any water there!" said a rather practical bee. "When I want a drink, I don't waste my time licking rocks. Deep water tastes best, anyway."

Sometimes, as many as twenty bees were at the birdbath at the same time, all talking together. Bees don't swim, so they were lined up all around the edge of the water and on the rocks that were placed out in the middle of the bath.

The birds who lived nearby were now used to the bees sharing their bath, though it took a little while. In the cold months, when bees stay in their hive to keep warm, the birds had the bath to themselves. Then on the first warm days of Spring, whenever a bird would land at the bath, the bees who were drinking would all rise into the air at once in surprise, not knowing what to think. It is, of course, quite a shock to be interrupted in your drinking by very large, flapping wings and rushing air. But just as a bird would land and tuck in its wings, it would suddenly notice the dozen or so bees that just took flight and were hovering around its eyes, and it would jump into the air in surprise. It is, of course, just as great a shock to discover yourself questioned by a dozen or so bees all looking into your eyes as it is to be interrupted by large, flapping wings, when all you wanted was a calm, relaxing drink of water and perhaps a bath.

But pretty quickly the bees got used to the birds appearing suddenly and landing, so generally only a couple of them would jump up in surprise. These would not be enough to startle the bird, so everything was calm enough.

The bee on top of the rock said, "Goodness, how do you keep from being blown into the water when birds arrive, drinking so close to the edge? I nearly lose my footing up here."

"You've got to be quick, and go with the flow," said the other. "I've been to the hive and back delivering water for the queen since you got here. If you're going to be so slow drinking water you will likely be blown in by more birds than I."

Now bees do not generally take any interest in the comings and goings at the back door of their keeper's house, neither the large people door nor the smaller doggie door, but the birds do. Other than hawks passing overhead, the movements of the back door of the keeper's house are the most important and concerning things to watch for. If there is no seed in the feeders, the birds watch the back door hoping the keeper will come out to sprinkle seed. And if there is plenty of seed so all the birds are eating, they watch the back door because maybe the keeper will rush out to try to catch the birds and eat them. Of course the keeper would never do a thing like that, not even the rushing out part, as he is normally a very steady fellow, but birds worry about such things.

So it happened that Azul the snowdog came out through his doggie door, and like an explosion all the birds jumped into the air and flapped and got away as fast as they could, quite energetically, and completely over exaggeratedly, as birds do. Azul did not care, as he was used to the birds and their silly ways, but two bees cared a very great deal, for they were both blown into the water by the sudden flight of the birds.

As the snowdog walked past the birdbath, two bees could be seen boating around on the surface of the water. One was upside down and one was rightside up, but both were stuck to the surface of the birdbath. Their wings were beating as fast as ever they could beat them, and their little legs were running, under the water and over the water, but because of the mysteries of the world, they neither could come to the edge, nor get a foothold on anything solid.

When the keeper looked out the window to see where his dog had got to, and if he was ready to come back inside, he noticed the water of the birdbath, and how it made pretty patterns of light from the reflections of the sky. But the patterns were moving with hundreds of little lines of light, as though the water was singing, and he knew what had happened.

As the snowdog came back in, the keeper went out to the birdbath and said, "What are you bees doing? You know you get stuck by the water whenever you go swimming," and he brought his finger close to the upside down bee so it could grab on. With his other hand, he brought a finger under the rightside up bee and raised her, too, out of the bath. Then he lifted both bees high in the air and flicked his fingers, so that both flew off home.

The next time they came to the water, each bee tried the other one's idea. The one that liked drinking from the rocks tried drinking from the water's edge, and the one who liked deep water began drinking the dew off the rocks. And in both cases it worked, and neither one was ever blown in the water again.

***

Gentle Bees

Tue, 4 Sep 2012 17:16:10 -0500

This morning I entered three hives for a friend. She wondered if they needed supers for the last month of the season, and could not be home to assist me.

I took the following video of the first hive. Of course, it holds some interest for beekeepers who want to know about removing honey from hives, but mainly it shows the amazing fact that bees are gentle and forgiving.

If I said that about dogs or cats, many of you would agree. Yet dogs and cats can bite and scratch. Bees can sting.

When I search videos of beekeeping, everyone (that I see) is completely suited up. It looks at least uncomfortable, if not ridiculous. I would not at all enjoy beekeeping if I was always in such armor.

Do the cops keep crowds in peaceful order by brandishing weapons from behind shields? That’s how one starts a riot. The best police presence is the cop on the bike, or the cop on the beat, naked to threats, but able to respond if necessary.

You can enjoy beekeeping so much more by just slowing down, showing respect, keeping your fear out of the picture. Can you imagine a teacher being successful who was afraid of her students? Impossible. And neither she nor her students would enjoy the interaction.

I suggest you give it a try. Risk learning that bees are intelligent and respectful of you in equal measure to your respect and intelligence.

--love, Jack