Why did I want a look-see? Saturday was lovely -- upper 40's -- and bees were flying. But certain hives had less activity than expected. Thought I'd put a stethoscope on them to see if I could detect a heartbeet (sic -- get it?)
I started with Peach, then Austeja, and Hippolyte. The thing is, I really couldn't hear anything in any of the hives. So then I checked Elsa because, based on the number of bees pouring out of her on Saturday, I knew she was alive and extremely well. Dang it. I couldn't tell a difference between her and the others. (Note to self: Get a Flir next year.)
What to do? What to do? I popped open Austeja's observation window. Not a single bee in sight. Had she absconded?
Hmmm... I tried one more thing. There is an almost foolproof scientific test for determining whether your bees are alive. It's called Kick the Hive.
After some kicking and banging, a few heads began poking out of Buttercup, Celestia, and Persephone. Bummer. That gave me 4/8 colonies. However, after waiting another 5 minutes, some bees started pouring out of Bubblegum as well. Cool. 5/8 hives was fewer than I'd hoped, but not bad.
Before heading back inside, I figured I might as well take some photos of Austeja's empty comb. That's when she gave me a surprise. On opening the window again, bees started breaking cluster and crawling toward the window. Now I'm up to 6/8!
What about my remaining two colonies? Until we get several consecutive days of 50+ F temps, I've decided not to diagnose them dead -- hence today's post title.
So what's happening with my bees. I have some naive theories:
- They may just be very tightly clustered, which is why Austeja's bees were originally not visible through the window. Maybe that's why I had trouble finding the clusters with the stethoscope.
- They may simply be very quiet and conserving energy. Mike Palmer in VT says that the bees that overwinter best in his brutal climate are the ones that barely make a buzz in freezing temps. These are the ones he breeds. I got my original bees from Sam Comfort, who in turn collects local wild bees, but he's also got genetics from Mike Palmer and Kirk Webster in his stock. Could this just be a quality that my girls have inherited? I don't know.
- Even though Elsa was alive, I gave her some good kicks and poundings, too, just because I wanted a Kodak Moment. Yet no amount of abuse would induce her bees to come outside. Hippolyte and Peach could be dead (seriously, I didn't have high hopes for Peach going into winter), but they could also be ignoring me like Elsa. So I'll just wait until the weather is warmer. After all, bees that I could've sworn would die/were dead have surprised me on more than one occasion.
In any case, I'm pleased to even have 6/8 alive. 8 hives was a lot of work last year, so if a few are dead-outs, that's fine. They'll provide space for new splits in the spring and give me a chance to retrofit a couple hives with insulated roofs/walls.
Going forward, I'll probably open the hives to make sure they have some sugar near the clusters, but that's for another day. A warmer one.
In any case, it's amazing how different I feel this winter compared to my first winter, or even last winter. My first couple of winters, I was on tenterhooks the entire season, praying every day that my bees would survive. Last year, I thought at least one or two hives might make it through winter, but I was still uncertain. Finally, I've reached this calm, confident place where losing 1, 2, even half of my colonies is not the end of the world. It's ok. I like this feeling.