feed the bees

It was a little warmer today, and not quite as windy, and I galvanised myself into going to check how the bees were doing with their stores.  I was worried about two colonies in particular, that I meant to unite last autumn only I never got round to it until it was too late in the year because I wasn't confident about doing it, given that I'd never managed to see either queen all summer.  By then it was too late to feed them sugar syrup either, so they've been living off slabs of fondant (bought at great expense to the management) rested on top of their frames, with a little wooden eke to raise the roof up to make room.  I was worried about them last week and felt so ill I decided they'd just have to cope without me for a while longer, but by today I couldn't put it off any longer.

Both were alive and well, or at least there were plenty of bees up in the eke eating the fondant. One colony had quite a lot left, but the other was down to a lump about the size of a generous helping of shortbread so it's a good thing I didn't leave it much longer.  I gave them half of my last slab of fondant to be getting on with, keeping the other half for emergencies, and will see how they go.  On nice days they must be able to bring some forage in themselves.

I checked the weight of the other hives while I was at it, by hefting at one side of each box and seeing how much effort it took to lift them.  All were good and heavy.  One had a sole forager bee returning with a load of orange pollen, but there were no visible signs of life from the others, and I could not resist lifting the roofs off very briefly to see if there were any bees in there.  I didn't disturb the crown boards that sit over the frames, just peered in through the holes (they have many uses, those holes, feeding, emptying the super above of bees by fitting a one-way bee escape, and reassuring beekeepers by giving a tiny glimpse into the hive).  Every box had live bees in it, even the dodgy nuc that did nothing all summer last year.  The yellow bees that are normally dopey and sweet natured showed their displeasure at the draught by raising their bottoms towards me and wiggling them.  All sorts of chemical signals will have been unleashed, which are wasted on me, but I got the message from their behaviour.

Just because there are some live bees in early March isn't to say that every colony is viable.  Some of the queens may have died, and depending on the weather and when I can first open the hives properly, I may or may not discover this in time to do anything about it.  But it's not bad going, six out of six (plus the dodgy nuc) making it this far through the winter.  I will have to unite those two colonies, though.  I don't want as many as six before the swarming season even starts.  Don't have time to look after them, don't have enough boxes, don't have outlets for that much honey if I got a crop.

I haven't yet heard from other local beekeepers what the general experience of winter losses has been this year.  Last year, all mine came through the winter with one going queenless, but they were obliging about making a new queen from a frame of fresh eggs taken from another hive.  The year before that, all survived the winter with one going queenless, but they obviously hadn't read the books and refused to do anything useful with their emergency frame.  I think the year before one lot simply died, but overall I haven't done too badly in recent years.  Or rather, they haven't done too badly.  I feed them and give them a winter varroa treatment and the rest of it is up to them.  I overwinter them on mesh floors, and am increasingly convinced that helps.  You'd think they might find it too cold, but condensation and damp seem more of a threat in the winter than low temperatures.

Addendum  I should have been in London today to see a friend, but when she heard I'd had a cold she told me not to worry if I needed to postpone, and I decided to take her at her word and rearranged for next week.  In fact, I did do some gardening as well as check the bees, but the great thing about pootling around at home is that if you get tired you can stop, whereas if you're sixty miles and a train journey away you still have to keep going for hours.  I did stop when it began to hail, and by then I was tired and rather clammy.