Reviewing The Season & Plant Profiles.

Planning Ahead.

What have I learned this season?  I ask myself this at the end of every bee season and it helps me to plan the upcoming year. In a nutshell:

• Continue reducing treatments as the colonies exhibit the ability to resist varroa; monitor and record varroa drop more carefully using both alcohol wash tests and natural drop on sticky boards. Examine varroa under my microscope looking for bitten mites. Collected more data and produce a graph next year.
• Reduce workload; prioritise and take on fewer projects.
• Make an inventory of equipment, store more carefully and repair damage.
• Reviewing books is great and improves my own writing. Complete online proofreading course.

Learning.

Learning is about changing behaviour and not making the same mistakes again. I must be a slow learner in some areas! When I downsized the apiary, I ended up with a lot of spare hive parts that should have been stored in a sheltered place. But where? The bee shed is already stacked to the roof with equipment, and the other sheds are full of firewood. The patio out the back is slightly sheltered and seemed like the best option for storage but I knew strong winds would probably blow through and topple my stacks again at some point. It happened over the summer but I was pushed for time and piled them up again and putting concrete blocks on top while hoping for the best. The other evening, storm Bert, or whatever it’s called, blew through and flattened with a crash the latest stack of poly hives, nuclei, and wooden hives. Heavy rain followed and fell relentlessly for a day and left me feeling frustrated. It was depressing looking out onto a sea of hive parts; some intact, some broken. I came up with a plan last night and resolved to deal with it today no matter how challenging.

This morning was calm and dry as I surveyed the damage which was not limited to a couple of poly boxes and a roof; the big plastic gardening tray that I place supers on in the car was shattered.
I decided to create space behind the bee shed which meant sawing off some lower branches of the leylandii tree which is only there to provide shelter anyway. But where were my father’s old bow saw and my red secateurs? It turns out that the Arborist (Linton) has appropriated them. They are in the truck as he works on a job in Inverness. I have to use a bendy carpenter’s saw that I find above the work bench in the garage. It takes ages to saw through the branches but I persevere and am quite pleased with the results; more space and probable shelter.

Better Balance.

What else have I learned? Well, since the Arborist exchanged an aviation career for a job at home climbing trees (not quite above the clouds anymore, but higher than most of us like to be above the ground), I have less time to pursue my pet projects outside the domestic realm.  I’ve set myself some boundaries and think more carefully now about what I can comfortably take on, and what each new project will actually involve. It is easy to feel flattered at being invited to get involved with something which you agree to, then realise, too late, the amount of work is so much that it hems you into a corner. Does that sound familiar? I only give presentations at a time of year that suits me best, and far fewer of them than I used to give. If I accepted all the invitations, I could be giving one or more every week. I don’t know about you but I like to have the end of the year off in the run up to Christmas after a busy bee season. In the evenings I like to put my feet up and knit; this year I have several projects on the go and have already made 2 blue baby hats, 4 small jumpers, one large hat, and 3/4 of a cardigan for myself. I’ve just sourced pink wool for another baby hat; a close friend will become a new granny in December. This is also the time when I listen to beekeeping podcasts and catch up on National Honey Show lectures, and the reason why my knitting is simple stitching and no fancy patterns.

Women and Bees Collective.

A couple of years ago, I spent a bit of time on plant profiles for a project that I’d clearly not taken the time to understand what was wanted before agreeing to be part of Women and Bees for the Will Bees Bespoke Company. I thought that the main object was choosing and profiling my favourite flowers, trees, shrubs, and bee species for a booklet promoting pollinating insects. However, I was aware that new fabric designs would be created from the choices of the 45 women in beekeeping involved. The fabric is pretty amazing and has been designed by the talented artist Emma Mawston in Devon. You can see the fabrics here: https://willbeesbespoke.com/collections/the-bee-tree-of-life Some of you may be familiar with the project from BeeCraft magazine featuring some of our profiles over the last few months. However, I’ve not heard anything further about a booklet raising the profiles of pollinators and plants. Perhaps that might follow but I want to share my profiles with you.

Here are two of my chosen plants.

Gorse.

I’ve chosen gloriously yellow and coconut- scented gorse because it is one of the most useful plants for the widest variety of animals that I know of. Gorse, or Ulex europaeus, is a member of the pea family whose bright yellow flowers have a main keel with two lateral wings like its relative scorpion vetch. However, two dark velvety sepals covered in hairs provide gorse with additional protection and the pollen is kept dry during showers. It can grow to 8 feet in height and its dense prickly leaves make it ideal hedging material to keep stock in or out of a field or garden. Small animals can seek refuge under gorse, and birds can nest safely inside.

In Scotland we call it whins, and it is known as furze in the south. Gorse provides early pollen and nectar for honey bees and other pollinators and it flowers all year round so the old proverb, “Love is out of fashion when gorse is out of bloom” holds true.

Gorse is a wonderful source of pollen with above average crude protein and essential amino acid levels in early spring when honey bee colonies are growing rapidly. Although gorse does flower throughout the year, honey bees usually find more attractive forage later in the season and utilise gorse only if other plants run dry. I always notice some bushes with a few flowers in the dead of winter every year. Pollen is the only source of protein for bees who rely on it for keeping healthy and making nutritious brood food.

In April, I have watched my bees collecting both pollen and nectar from gorse at the roadside half a mile from their hives. I’ve found nectar in some of their brood frames during hive inspections thus confirming my observations. On a warm spring day there is nothing more glorious than walking close to these bushes feeling the sun on your face, and smelling their sweet coconut perfume hanging in the air. Often seen as a nuisance, some farmers will grub out and deracinate these wonderful pollinator food sources. Luckily, where I live gorse is ubiquitous and so this is not a problem, yet. However, conserving gorse generally is a good thing, as is promoting its value for so many animals.

Hawthorn.

I’ve chosen hawthorn, Crataegus monogyna, from the rose family on account of its own versatility and because it provides pollen and nectar for a diverse range of insects. Hawthorn can be grown as a small tree, shrub, or hedging, and the red mealy carbohydrate-packed fruits provide energy for birds and mammals.

The white frothy hawthorn flowers herald the start of summer here in Nairnshire and usually open in late May-June. The popular quiz question asking, “What takes six weeks to travel from Land’s End to John O’ Groats?” rings true here with the answer; spring. Summer is also later here too.

Hawthorn gives off a distinctive odour of trimethylamine one of the first products of putrefaction. This is a cunning plant strategy to attract insects such as flies and beetles who like to feed on carrion. These insects gather alongside honey bees, short and long-tongued bumble bees, and solitary bees. Nectar is secreted at the base of the shallow open flowers giving easy access for short tongued insects. It is easy to see the nectar glistening inside the open flower which has 5 petals with 5 sepals underneath.

Hawthorn produces creamy white pollen grains similarly coloured and shaped to its apple relative’s pollen. Hawthorn pollen contains above average crude protein levels and the grains are greasy with a protective lipid coating called pollenkitt which increases its food value. This makes up for the fact that it is a fickle plant and a highly unpredictable nectar producer. It requires ambient air temperatures above 20˚C for a nectar flow, but even with high temperatures it might not produce honey. Sometimes trees will secrete copious nectar in one area, and a couple of miles away hawthorns there do not produce enough for a honey crop. Despite research on this phenomenon, there is no explanation yet for it.

If honey is produced it is usually dark and may be confused with heather honey to look at. It is darkish green in colour and lacking brightness but it is flavoursome and redolent of almonds with a nutty taste.

This interesting tree is one of the first to sport green leaves in spring. It is not fussy about habitat although it will not tolerate acid soil. Often it grows in pasture and is commonly used in hedging and to divide fields. There are several hundred yards of hawthorn hedging at the roadside a few feet from my apiary and I can smell the unmistakable strongly-scented flowers at the end of May.

The Druids were keen on hawthorn and it has since been regarded by some as sacred. It was also associated with fertility. In Scotland, infusions made from flowers and bark infused were used to treat headaches, and the Irish chewed its bark to relieve toothache. Physicians also used hawthorn to treat various cardiac conditions including congestive cardiac failure, also known as dropsy, a couple of hundred years ago. So, hawthorn is an interesting and useful tree for many reasons, and, for me, it is synonymous with early summer.