I went out to my small apiary for an inspection of my
hives. I wanted to make certain
everything was okay.
The bees had been a little grumpy for about a week. Every time I went outside, I’d get escorted
back to the house by one or two bees. I
was wondering what was going on. Was it
the cloudy weather? Were we in a
dearth? Was the queen still there?
There is nothing I can do about bad weather. But, if we were in a dearth, and the nectar
had stopped flowing, I could feed my bees some sugar water to get them by. If the queen was gone? Well, I could buy them a new queen. So, I needed to go into the hives and see
what was going on.
I lit my smoker and walked over to the hive. I gently puff a bit of smoke in the front entrance, first, to calm the bees. Then I lift the outer cover and puff a bit of
smoke in from the top. I pull off the
outer cover and pop up the inner cover a bit.
I push a little smoke into the top of the hive. The bees should be calm and relaxed by now, as they busily fill their tummies with honey.
After setting the smoker down, I pull the
inner cover all the way off and peer down into the top bars of the medium honey
super. The bees are working hard. And there are lots of them. I can tell that this must be a healthy hive.
I pull a few frames out of the super and look them
over. There are three frames that have
been fully drawn with comb. Each cell
has been packed to capacity with nectar that has been turned into honey and
then capped. I take a moment to admire beautiful
white capped comb. White, yet translucent. And I can see the amber light glowing through
the frame of honey.
A peek at the rest of the frames in the super, and between
the frames down into the brood box and I can tell the bees have plenty of
stores. The dearth hasn’t started, yet. It is time to look for the queen.
I finish my inspection of the honey super and then add a
little more smoke. Then I use my hive
tool to help me pry the honey super away from the deep brood box. The bees have glued the two boxes together
with propolis. I must wedge my hive tool
between the boxes and lift one corner slightly.
Then I go to a second corner. I
hear a crack and a pop, and I know the two boxes are unglued. Now, I can pull the super off the brood box.
I set the honey super aside and begin my search for the
queen in earnest. As I lift out the
first frame, a few bees detach themselves and begin to buzz around me, getting
in my face.
“Hey buddy! What in
the Hive are you doing here?”
“Yeah,” I hear from a second voice. “This is private property!”
“Get lost!” a third voice chimes in.
I’m startled! I’ve
heard of other beekeepers telling me that their bees talk to them. But, I’ve always thought they meant
figuratively, not literally.
“Well,” I say, somewhat hesitantly, “I’m looking for the
queen.”
“The Queen?” the boldest of the three bees says. “Why is always the queen that people want to
see?”
I tried to explain “She’s the most important bee in the hive. She keeps everyone working. She lays the eggs that makes other bees.”
“Ha!” exclaimed Bee One, the bold girl. “All she does is walk around all day sticking
her fat butt into the cells we’ve made.
The cells we keep clean. She
doesn’t even feed herself. We do that!”
Emboldened by her sister, Bee Two chimes in, “We pamper that
girl even before she’s born. She gets a
queen-sized cell to pupate in. And she
gets extra food to eat. No bee bread for
that baby girl! She gets fed Royal
Jelly. Nothing but the good stuff.”
Bee Three can’t hold her tongue anymore. “And when she comes out of the cell, do you
know what she does? Nothing! For two weeks, she does nothing at all. Just marches around the hive, acting all
important.
“Do you know what I did when I first came out of my
cell? I got down on my bee’s knees and
scrubbed out the floor of my own cell.
And my sisters’ cells. Before I
even had my first meal, I was cleaning out cells. And I’ve been working hard every day of my
life ever since.”
“But,” I protested, “there is only one queen and there are
tens of thousands of you. The queen
really is special.”
“Special? Can she
gather nectar and pollen?” asked Bee One.
“Can she make wax and build comb?” asked Bee Two.
“Can she guard the entrance and fight off intruders?” asked
Bee Three.
“Can she turn nectar into honey?” asked Bee One.
“NO!” the three bees sing in unison.
“Look at how beautiful she is,” I begin “with that long
golden abdomen and her shiny thorax. The
rest of you all look the same. Your just
normal, everyday worker bees. If I met
you out in the yard, I couldn’t tell one of you from the other. In fact, I can’t keep track of just three
bees as you go buzzing in circles around my face. How am I supposed to pick out one bee out of
20 or 30 thousand bees?”
“We are more special and more necessary than the queen!”
declared Bee One … or was it Bee Three?
I’m not sure.
“Let me give you something to remember me by,” said Bee Two.
“Me too,” said Bee Three.
“Me three,” said Bee One.
And that’s when they stung me. One on the hand. Two stung me on the knee. And Three nailed me on my nose.
Nope. I’ll never
forget those three bees. They were very
special bees.
But I still think the queen is the most Important bee in the
hive.
… Wait! Do you hear a
buzzing sound?
