The New Urbanism and Dwell Magazine beehives get ready to rumble in honey-production smackdown.
This was the 2010 hive set-up at the bottom of the field, as far away from folks as possible, but facing the morning sun. I like red a lot, but it turns out bees don’t. The difference in hive personalities was amazing (I ascribe it to the modern versus tra-dish roof line, of course): the pale blue roofed hive was sedate, active but orderly, and built nice regular comb on its foundation. The red boxed hive went crazy, was much touchier generally and built a LOT of comb fast, and everywhere. I thought of them as the early Beatles versus the Rolling Stones, you know, user friendly pop versus trash-the-hotel-room rock. Well, as it turned out the analogy broke down pretty quickly. The red hive was dead by mid July, and the blue hive went on until September, until it too succumbed to what I think was American foulbrood (AFB). AFB is a nasty, highly contagious bacterial infection that goes after the brood, and thus dwindles the hive by killing its offspring. It can last in the wood of the hive for years, so over the winter I burned all my frames and charred the inside of the boxes and lids to kill anything left. It was heartbreaking. There’s a lot on the web about colony collapse disorder, and I am not remotely qualified to comment on it, but it’s worth a search.
Picking up the hives on April 6th from Ruhl Bee Supply. The tin can in the middle of the of the box is food for the trip, and you can just see the queen in her special box to the left of the can. The truck coming from California had to stop in the mountains because of snow...they're eager to get settled.
Just in time for the bees to get on it.
Max & Penelope, our junior beekeepers.
Note to self: Next time make sure your beekeeper's veil is tucked in so upset bees can't climb in and sting you on the eyelid.
