Winter Feeding for the BeesofSpike: Getting Fondant into the Hive

Tuesday 29th January.

After 3 weeks of wintry weather including sub-zero temperatures and a liberal helping of snow, the weather changed for the better and, for one day only, the temperature in the Apiary rose to a daytime high of 13.4C.

It was mild enough for the bees to be out stretching their wings and finding forage.

This was the window of opportunity.
Having failed to get fondant into the hive during the mild spell over Christmas and the New Year, this was the chance to make amends.

Adding fondant to your bees' stores of honey helps to decrease the likelihood of the colony starving to death during the long winter months.
It's not good to expose the inside of the hive to the cold so inserting the fondant would have to be done swiftly. The plan was to keep the roof off for the minimum amount of time possible.


It was also the time to see if the new homemade wooden eke would fit onto the polystyrene hive.
The fit had been tested on a spare hive but this was going to be its first use on a live box full of bees.

Dry fitting the unpainted eke on a spare brood box

An eke increases the available vertical space between the top of the frames and the base of the roof or top feeder. 

Without an eke in place there would be no room for the block of fondant.

It would also be the first chance to have a peek inside the hive since the last inspection of autumn. 

And the only chance to look inside before the arrival of the nice spring weather.

The operation went incredibly smoothly.

After smoking the entrance, LandofSpike and Neighbour Jane popped the top off the hive and gave them another small puff of smoke. 
The bees were, as usual, extremely placid and accommodating.

A quick inspection revealed that there was still plenty of capped honey left in the super and in the, ahem, large chunk of burr comb also nestling in the same super.

All seemed well.

The fondant packaging was slit open across the underside to expose the sugar and then placed on top of the uppermost frames so the bees could access it directly from below.

2.5kg of fondant in place, eke in place and, erm, prodigious amounts of burr comb in place.
However, you can see plenty of capped honey on frames 2 & 3 and on the burr comb.

Adding the homemade eke was extremely satisfying.

It was a snug and perfect fit.

Like a glove...

Perhaps the EPS hive makers could consider stocking EPS ekes for their beebox system as it is a pretty essential bit of kit and seems like a bit of an omission from their catalogue.

However, it's so relatively simple making your own that the lack of a store-bought eke is no great hardship.

So with the roof safely strapped back down, the BeesofSpike have their supplementary winter feed sitting nicely on top of their own stores. 

Their hive is now shut to humans until the spring.

Although the winter closedown is in place, LandofSpike will still be observing the little fellers on a daily basis, observing any activity and recording temperatures in the Apiary. 

He also needs to construct some new frames, paint some supers and brood boxes and build a new hive stand. 

And he really needs to get reading and bone up on what to do in the springtime.

The BeesofSpike Apiary is Snowbound

The winter freeze has finally arrived at the BeesofSpike Apiary.

After an extremely mild holiday period, which saw workers foraging on winter blossoms, the weather has taken on a more seasonal feel.

Initially, on the 17th of January, as the temperature dropped, there was the traditional 'light dusting' of snow.

The next day the light dusting became a slightly heavier dusting. 
There was more snow overnight and more the next morning. 
It was now just deep enough for LandofSpike to take the kids sledging. Just deep enough for him to mangle himself on the slopes and end up in A&E.

Then, on the 21st of January, as the snow kept falling and the temperatures continued to drop, it became, at least by London standards, proper snow.

Spike Acres looking a bit wintry. The hive is just visible through the screen

LandofSpike knew that, despite the freezing temperatures, his bees would more than likely be quite cosy, all clustered together, safe indoors.

But as the snow got deeper, he realised that a 7-10 cm covering of snow sitting on the bees' landing board would block the tiny winter entrance to the hive and they'd all be trapped inside.

Even a 2 cm covering of snow would have covered the entrance. It was obviously time for a bit of beekeeper intervention.

The Apiary. The Landing Board is covered in snow

However when LandofSpike got to the Apiary, intent on clearing their front path, he realised that his snow-shoveling skills were not needed.

The landing board, like everything else, was indeed covered in a thick layer of snow but the area around the entrance was completely snow-free and open for business.
This wasn't the work of the bees clearing the snow away with tiny shovels but was a result of the warmth of the hive radiating from the doorway and melting the snow in the immediate area.

The warmth from the hive keeps the entrance clear

As a first year beekeeper LandofSpike was initially amazed by this but, of course, he realised that it's actually just very logical primary level physics.

That aside, it is however a brilliant example of the natural world coming up with a simple and elegant solution to a possibly disastrous problem.

Again the beekeeper needs to do nothing apart from observe and learn. Honeybees have, of course, been dealing with snow just a tiny bit longer than LandofSpike has been dealing with being a beekeeper.

As the snowy days continued LandofSpike noticed that the numbers of dead bees in the space immediately outside the entrance gradually increased.

It wasn't enormous numbers but there was a definite build up of bodies.

Initially he thought that it might be fearless or foolhardy flyers unable to deal with the freezing conditions but it seems more likely that this was the work of mortuary bees clearing out dead bodies but being unable to get them any further than the front step because of the weather.

Just bung 'em on the front step guys, we'll get rid of 'em once it warms up

There are always casualties though.

Venturing out in these temperatures is a guarantee of more or less certain doom.

It's just too cold for a honeybee to function.

LandofSpike found this apian equivalent of Captain Oates lying perfectly frozen in the grounds of Spike Acres, alone in a pristine field of snow. It was only a metre from the hive.

"I am just going outside and may be some time."

Apart from these few winter observations there has been no sign of the bees.

Sensibly, they have been staying inside keeping toasty.

But the snow won't last forever.

And on the very next warm, dry day LandofSpike's next beekeepery task will be to get some fondant into the hive to supplement the bees' winter stores.

It's also an opportunity to take a quick look inside the box while the lid's off.

We'll also find out if that newly fashioned custom eke is any good.

A Mild Winter's Day

It's been a bit quiet down at The Hive since the winter weather set in on November the 24th. 

LandofSpike has had the occasional glimpse of the odd worker peeking out of the entrance but, in general, the bees are hunkered down indoors and are not venturing out.

The BeesofSpike winter hive. A super full of stores and top feeder still
in place. Entrance professionally secured with duct tape.

But today, December the 15th, the weather's taken a turn for the better.
After a spell where the nighttime temperatures have regularly been below freezing, suddenly it's a balmy 10.9C in The Apiary and the bees have been back out flying again in decent numbers. 

Somewhere in the area there must be plants in bloom because foragers have been returning with pollen. 
The mortuary bees have been busy too, taking the opportunity to clear out some casualties. 

And some of the flyers just seem to be enjoying getting out in the fresh air after being cooped up for the last few of 

weeks.

After three weeks indoors, a rare chance to stretch their wings 

Interestingly, the sound of their buzzing seems to be at a lower, less urgent, tone. 

Somehow, it gives the impression that they're more languid.

LandofSpike isn't sure why this is happening or whether it's of any significance.

Maybe it's a winter thing.

Or maybe they're a bit jaded after their long confinement. 

However, it is genuinely lovely to see them flying and to see that, so far, they're wintering well.