There’s a day for everything.
Today is Don’t Step on a Bee Day.
See if you can keep it up all week!
There’s a day for everything.
Today is Don’t Step on a Bee Day.
See if you can keep it up all week!
Well, I hope you enjoyed your break away from my blog. I did. Sometimes its nice to hit that big fat reset button in the middle of the desk. I hit it when my head fell on my desk one afternoon and just stayed there. I’m feeling a little better now.
You must be tired of all the Covid-19 stuff by now, but that’s exactly where I’m picking up my blog today. I just read a paper written by someone in Wuhan, China – the place the virus began. I have limited confidence in their study because it has grandiose statements and is a one-off. But it was allowed on the US government’s National Institute of Health website, so maybe it carries some truth. I’ll leave it to you to decide, but I still don’t fully trust it. The paper makes bold claims about the extreme effectiveness of bee stings as protection against Covid-19. In short, it seems too good to be true.
However, as a matter of general interest, here’s an excerpt from the study (read the full piece here) that relates how beekeepers in the Wuhan area seemed immune to Covid-19 during their epidemic:
“In Hubei province, the epicentre of COVID-19 in China, the local beekeepers association conducted a survey of beekeepers. A total of 5115 beekeepers were surveyed from February 23 to March 8, including 723 in Wuhan, the outbreak epicentre of Hubei. None of these beekeepers developed symptoms associated with COVID-19, and their health was totally normal.
After that, we interviewed five apitherapists in Wuhan and followed 121 patients of their apitherapy clinic. These patients had received apitherapy from October 2019 to December 2019, and all the five bee apitherapists have the habit of self-apitherapy for their own health care (apitherapy means making use of bee venom from the honeybee’s sting to treat or prevent certain diseases). Without any protective measures, two of the five apitherapists were exposed to suspected COVID-19 cases and others were exposed to confirmed COVID-19 cases, but none of them were infected eventually. None of the 121 patients were infected by SARS-CoV-2, and three of them had close contact with immediate family members who were confirmed SARS-CoV-2 Infection cases.”
There have been other claims that apitherapy (bee stings) will prevent or cure the novel corona virus. I don’t follow unproven, untested medical advice. Bee sting therapy may be effective in relieving some ailments, but the newness of Covid-19 has not allowed proper and thorough testing. And, as always, we need to remind ourselves of the potential fatal impact of bee stings on hypersensitive people. Further, practicing medicine without a licence is a serious offence.
However, this whole thing is intriguing. Bee stings can stimulate the immune system. If you get stung regularly, please comment below. Have you been tested for C-19? Did you have the virus? Whatever your answer – or thoughts on this story – be sure to let us know.
This is sort of a public service announcement for Alberta beekeepers. Alberta is a place in Canada, population 4 million, north of Montana, home to the Calgary Stampede, some NHL teams, and the best honey in the world. Deer and antelope roam here, too. I mention all this because most of my readers are not from Alberta, so this gives some context about what follows. If you’re not in western Canada, you might not care about this. In that case, you can come back later when you can stay longer.
I’m a director of United Beekeepers of Alberta. Our next AGM and conference is two weeks away. If you are in Alberta, Saskatchewan, or BC., come visit us at this big bee meeting. It’s in Spruce Grove, near Edmonton, the second-largest city in Alberta (home of the High Level Bridge Streetcar, among other fine attractions). Our meeting includes ten entrancing speakers, a lunch, edible snacks, non-edible honey competition, trade show, and a chance to get my autograph – if you successfully bid for a copy of one of my books.
Seriously, folks, the cost is trivial ($25), the folks are delightful, the talks entertaining, and you should be there. Don’t miss the United Beekeepers of Alberta Conference, Saturday, March 14, in Spruce Grove, Alberta. Learn more about the event and register before it sells out.
Spring is arriving in the north, and a young man’s mind thinks about romance. And varroa. There’s a nice new single-page guide that offers a quick look at integrated pest management (IPM) for the varroa beast. You can read some of the details, here, at the Entomology Today website, or read a complete paper on the topic at the Journal of Integrated Pest Management. Both pieces were written by Morgan Roth (et al.), an entomology research assistant at Virginia Polytech.
Here are a few lines from the abstract of “Biology and Management of Varroa destructor (Mesostigmata: Varroidae) in Apis mellifera (Hymenoptera: Apidae) Colonies”, which appears in the integrated pest management journal.
…overuse of synthetic acaricides in the past has led to widespread acaricide resistant V. destructor populations. The application of Integrated Pest Management (IPM) techniques is a more recent development in V. destructor control and is suggested to be more effective than only using pesticides, thereby posing fewer threats to A. mellifera colonies. When using IPM methods, informed management decisions are made based upon sampling, and cultural and mechanical controls are implemented prior to use of acaricide treatments. If acaricides are deemed necessary, they are rotated based on their mode of action, thus avoiding V. destructor resistance development.
This, of course, is relatively well-known advice. But the quality of the article, published this month, is worth your time. You can follow the historic migration of varroa from a largely benign existence on Apis cerana in Asia, to its nearly world-wide domination as a parasite that chews out bits of Apis mellifera. The paper covers biology and reproduction, current controls (synthetic and organic acaricides), non-chemical treatments, and of course, how all things fit together in the IPM model.
Here’s a bit more, from the section Soft (Organic) Acaricides:
Soft acaricide treatments have been steadily increasing in popularity, as they rarely accumulate to harmful levels in hives and bee products (Rosenkranz et al. 2010). Oxalic acid that can be sprayed, trickled, evaporated into hives, or used as crystals, is thought to be preferable for use in autumn and winter months (Rademacher and Arz 2006). Lactic acid is also used in small apiaries during the autumn and winter, is administered by spray, but is a time-consuming treatment strategy (Kraus and Ben 1994). Formic acid is administered as a fumigant, inserted into hives on saturated pads or in gel pads (Elzen et al. 2004), or in gel packs, and is best used during summer months, or during a period of the year when average daily temperatures reach 15°C (Satta et al. 2005). These organic acids all occur naturally in honey (Kraus and Ben 1994, Rademacher and Arz 2006, Gunes et al. 2017); however, high levels of formic acid vaporization can be toxic to bees, therefore, acid concentrations and hive temperatures should be monitored while treatments are being administered (Elzen et al. 2004). It is recommended that day temperatures range between 10 and 33°C when formic acid strips are in use (Honey Bee Health Coalition 2018). Despite the risks, formic acid is also the only soft acaricide that is known to kill mites in A. mellifera capped brood cells, which makes it an attractive option (Fries 1991). The modes of action for these acids are unclear, but it is suspected that oxalic and lactic acid lead to mite death via solution acidity, and formic acid is thought to eventually interfere with V. destructor metabolism and respiration (Rosenkranz et al. 2010).
Many essential oils have also been tested for use in V. destructor control, however, thyme (thymol), marjoram, sage, wintergreen, clove, and turpentine (camphor) oil, are most commonly implemented, and have been somewhat successful (Imdorf et al. 1999). These treatments may be administered as fumigants, sprays, powders, saturated absorbent materials, or gels (Mondet et al. 2011). These essential oils are believed to be effective due to their neurological effects on V. destructor (Blenau et al. 2012). Tobacco extract was also shown to be an effective acaricide, especially when used in combination with clove oil (Mahmood et al. 2014). Thymol, purchased as Apiguard gel or powder, is the most commonly used essential oil. Thymol is considered to be more effective than tau-fluvalinate, which could be due to resistance (Ahmad et al. 2013) even though it can have different effects on bees of various ages and is still ineffective on mites in bee brood (Mondet et al. 2011).
I think that the articles, in Entomology Today (a synopsis) and the Journal of Integrated Pest Management, are worth your time. They will certainly help you know your enemy and maybe even restrict the voracious vermin to destroying your neighbours’ hives, instead of your own.
I never met Susan Rudnicki, but we sparred regularly right here on this blog. She was passionate about her California Africanized bees, about young women’s education (especially in developing countries), and about the need for us to take care of this planet. Our disagreements were minor, engaging, and illuminating. I felt like we were friends, pen pals of a sort, though our correspondence was public, shared on the web.
This went on for a while and Susan became one of the most regular members of the comment gallery. Then, almost exactly one year ago, she sent me a private note, telling me that she was sick. She had pancreatic cancer. A tiny proportion of people with this diagnosis live for years. I was sure that she would be one and encouraged her natural optimism. She was thin, active, strong, and maintained a healthy diet. She was unlikely to be inflicted with the disease in the first place, and she was likely to enjoy many more years of advocacy and fussing over her bees. But within months, she died. If you’d like to know more about this amazing person, you can visit this blog post.
Next weekend, January 18 and 19, the HoneyLove organization is holding a Natural Beekeeping Conference at LA’s University of Southern California campus. Among the presenters will be Michael Bush, Les Crowder, Dr. May Berenbaum, Sam Comfort, Jacqueline Freeman, Michael Thiele, and many more. The conference is in Susan’s backyard, so to speak, and she would have loved being there. She will be, in spirit, and she’ll be remembered with the presentation of a memorial scholarship. If you’d like to know more about that, send a note to email@example.com.
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Here are a few of the nearly 100 comments that Susan left on the pages of this blog. . .
December 30, 2018, responding to a post about Beekeeper Barbie:
“…my dad brought home some ponies from the auction when I was 6 and that was it for my “indoor life” anyway. Completely horse crazy for the next 15 years. Still don’t have TV either.”
November 5, 2018, responding to a post about philosopher/beekeeper Richard Taylor:
“Well, thank you for this!! I think Taylor would be extremely concerned with the current state of wealth consolidation in the US and the world generally. The wealthy of our administration seem hell-bent on mining and extracting for profit at a ever increasing rate, while the climate science directly instructs us to be going in the opposite direction.”
August 10, 2018, responding to a post about record heat in Calgary:
“I live in Los Angeles—Manhattan Beach, exactly, but the summers are getting hotter and the heat is more prolonged. Today, there are 22 major wild fires burning in our state, and so-called “fire season” which used to be Sept to Dec is now ALL year. We got a total of 4.79 inches of rain last year, all of it in Jan and March. My bees are struggling in a new apiary … in a rugged So Calif peninsula location surrounded by wild plants dessicated from prolonged drought. The heat is now so intense in summer that I have not only SBBs but fully ventilated screened tops under the top boards. My screened inner covers are the design found on HoneyBeeSuite here — https://honeybeesuite.com/how-to-make-a-screened-inner-cover/ Since my colonies are all foundationless (natural comb, no wires or foundation or plastics) they can melt under intense heat and crumple over. Once, I found honey running out the entrance onto the ground from some collapsed combs in my hives—I have mostly deep boxes. So, that is how I mitigate what is sure to be a ever more severe weather pattern of intense temperatures.”
December 27, 2017, responding to the man who discovered that bees can think:
“Thank you so much for this! von Frisch gets all the attention. This reminds me of the study of the double helix, in which Watson and Crick get the accolades by their research, but much has been made of how Rosalind Franklin’s images and research were fundamental to the W and C outcome.”
Finally, a month before her death, in Susan’s last contribution to this site:
“I keep wild (feral sourced) Apis mellifera, and assert there are thousands of wild colonies of honey bees in the Los Angeles basin. They are far from going extinct. Also, there is no connection between “honey bee farming” and the prosperity of wild honey bees.”
Australia is on fire. When I heard about the thousands of people who were fleeing – some being rescued from beaches by the navy – and then saw photos of black smoke, red skies, and stampeding kangaroos, I worried about the firefighters, homeowners, and displaced people. Then I began to worry about the bees of Australia.
The country has hundreds of species of bees, many residing in eucalyptus forests, which are comprised of oily trees capable of igniting like candles. Australia’s native bees are being consumed by flames, even as you read these words. The bush fires have killed trillions of insects and half a billion vertebrates. Those estimates are based on the landscape, 60,000 km² (24,000 square miles), burned so far. That’s an area larger than the state of West Virginia. It’s an area equal to 15% of all the arable land in Australia. The entire country is affected by ash and drifting smoke. Some of the soot has travelled at least 2,000 miles to New Zealand, causing mountain-top glaciers to turn grey.
Yesterday, the temperature topped 120 °F, (49 °C) around Sydney, Australia’s largest city, and 111 °F (44 °C) in Canberra, the capital. Even without fire, honey bees have a rough time surviving such heat. 120 °F is the temperature that honey combs, laden with honey and brood, begin to sag. Comb will eventually be wrecked in the hive, especially if covers aren’t shaded or insulated. Before 100 °F, most bees quit foraging and those that are flying carry water to cool their colony.
Smoke from forest and bush fires also cause severe problems. With black sooty smoke shrouding vast areas, nearly every bee in the country has had days of disrupted foraging. Just like you and me, bees can’t work well when the air is thick with smoke.
Australia’s drought – now in its fifth or sixth year – was devastating this spring. Even without bush fires, honey bees have been doing poorly because flowers have dried out. Due to the lack of rain, beekeepers have been losing money in Australia for several years. In Tasmania, honey production has dropped by 90% due to drought and smoke. Now it’s much worse.
It’s much worse because bee yards have been ravaged, colonies killed, equipment torched, combs destroyed. I haven’t heard all the bad news, but what I’ve heard is sobbering. Beekeepers are emotionally drained. They live their lives around bees. They build their equipment themselves, by hand. They care for their honey bees, work to prevent diseases and strive to keep their little helpers safe and healthy. Beekeepers become attached to the wonders of the hive and the bees themselves.
So, it’s devastating when you can’t help the bees. Late last month, when a beekeeper tried to move his hives out of a threatened forest (fires were 60 kilometres away), he found the road barred by police who wouldn’t let him enter. Fire fighters said it was too dangerous, and they would know the risks. It took almost a week for the flames to burn a path to his apiaries, but fire eventually arrived. The beekeeper lost eight hundred colonies in the blaze. Financially, it’s almost impossible to recover from such a loss. The emotional strain of losing the beautiful insects will take years to overcome.
I know a hard-working beekeeping family, the Curkpatricks, in the state of South Australia. I’ve done a little business with them in the past. I’d been worrying about their south-coast honey farm for a few weeks. Here are pictures from one of their apiaries – after fire swept in during the last few days of 2019.
This is what they saw, driving into their apiary, at 8am December 31:
The colonies were completely destroyed. Below, you can see the mix of melted comb, hundreds of pounds of honey, and charred honey bees.
Destruction and loss. Honey bees won’t leave their hives, even when their combs are burning. The fire swept through the yard, burned the hives, and kept moving. It doesn’t look like there was a lot of brush, probably mostly tall dry grass. The fire was likely moving very fast, propelled by high winds, as the lower tree trunks were scorched, but not the upper branches. Unfortunately, when the flames reached the hives, the equipment (and bees) burned.
Below is a detail from the photograph above. You can see that the eucalyptus trees took quite a bit of trunk damage. The debris in the foreground, of course, is from beehives that caught fire.
This was a horrific fire. I hope that the family that managed these bees will quickly recover from their nightmare. If you would like to help them (they produce beautiful comb honey) check their store, restaurant, and Facebook website.
The Curkpatrick family is not the only beekeeping family with major losses. As a result, several initiatives have started fundraising campaigns for Australia’s beekeepers. Here is one that details why beekeepers particularly need help and it offers a way that you can participate. Please do what you can to help.
Reporting the honey bee damage does not trivialize the loss of human life, homes, and larger animals in Australia. So far, over two dozen people have perished while fleeing or fighting the fires. Today I learned about cattle dogs who died alongside the cows they were trained to protect. The cattle were trapped against a barbed-wire fence. The dogs wouldn’t leave their cattle, even as the fire consumed them.
Meanwhile, there has been some nasty press about the Australian government’s lack of climate action. Even the New York Times has pointed out the irony of a government in climate-change denial, now trying to sweep up the ashes. As a person who has spent thirty years working in geophysics, and now involved in statistical ecology, I’ve seen the data and I understand it. Although the Earth has experienced higher temperatures in the distant past, I know that this disaster has been fuelled by coal and oil. But I won’t blame the hard-working farmers, ranchers, and beekeepers. They are the victims here.
There has also been finger-pointing directed at land managers who didn’t burn off the bush from time to time in controlled fires that would have reduced this week’s carnage. Indigenous Australian traditions included regular, well-timed burning of the brush. Western practises ignored those customs, greatly exasperating the inferno. There is plenty of blame to share for the conditions that led to this summer’s Australian bush fire disasters. Changes will be made on all fronts.
Summer is far from over. The damage will last for years, especially the mental trauma. Beekeepers often work in very remote areas. Some have reported that hearing the anguished screams of injured, burnt animals in bush and forest apiaries has severely affected them and their young beekeeper-labourers. This is horrific, it won’t end soon, and effects will last for years. For today, let Australians focus on recovery and the challenges ahead. Then they will roll up their sleeves and do what needs to be done to prevent future catastrophes.
— mahsa.shah (@mahsa_shah75) January 5, 2020
The perfect cup of tea starts with honey. At least, that’s how the royals do it. It’s hard to argue that anyone else would know better. They’ve got history, experience, connections and money. And tea is important in their part of the stratosphere. So how do you do tea, if you want to do it royally?
Begin by putting honey in the cup. Not sugar. Brew the tea – 100C for English breakfast tea, or 70C for green tea, measured with a thermometer. (Butler style, I dunk in a clean finger – you get to know the temperature with experience.) Black tea should be brewed for five minutes, and not consumed at all, while green tea should only get three minutes, then enjoyed vigorously.
If you must use milk, as the Queen herself does, it goes in last. Now, you might sit back and watch the clouds in your tea, but proper etiquette demands that you stir the concoction – never in circles! – but slowly back and forth, like the paddle of a canoe that will never cross a lake. Oh, and never let the spoon clang against the side of the bone china while paddling or you’ll be having tea with the servants before you know what’s happened.
Remember, the honey goes into the cup before the tea. That’s easy to remember – add the best first. What sort of honey should you use? The mildest you can find. It should be white, never amber, and very neutral in flavour. Buckwheat or manuka will turn your tea into medicine. How much should you use? Well, that depends on the type of honey. If you use a high fructose honey, such as tupelo, one or two small drops is probably plenty. On the other hand, honey that’s high in glucose (such as canola), is not as sweet and may take a spoonful. You really should work this out for yourself – I don’t know how well your taste buds control your life. What I do know, however, is that a good cup of green tea with honey in mid-winter will make life worth living.
What will the new year (and decade) bring? Although “20-20” denotes perfect vision, I doubt we’ll be so lucky. I suspect that we’ll continue with our near-sighted attitudes toward . . . everything. We can’t help it. We’re hardwired that way.
If the world gets better during the next decade, it will be by accident, not by intention. I’m not fatalistic, but my sense of realism is as thick as a blood clot. Will the ocean’s plastic islands disappear? Will superbugs become less super? Will carbon dioxide turn into foliage? Will temperatures fall? Icecaps grow? Will extinct bee species return to pollinate vanishing flowers? The likely answers are “No, no, no, no, no, and no.”
As an ecologist-in-training, I’m definitely an odd character. Most of my colleagues-in-training think that ecological salvation will only come if we return to a primitive lifestyle and commence a complete overhaul of the human psyche. They advocate retraining people to see the future more clearly, to care more deeply. If re-education doesn’t work fast enough, let’s make a bunch of laws to protect the world from ourselves.
I’m rather sure that won’t work. In successful beekeeping, you have to know your animal and deal with what you have. Bees are complicated, hard to get to know. Human animals are even more difficult. If we wish to clean up our messy bed, then scolding, shaming, and appealing to the better side of human nature won’t get the job done. You have to offer money.
A few weeks ago, our bee-ecology think-tank tried to come up with some universal cultural function that could encourage people everywhere to build a better world. For us, ‘a better world’ meant one with less pollution, healthier people, expanses of natural space, and a stable climate. What universal cultural attribute appeals to almost everyone, almost everywhere, and can be used to entice a better world? Money. Granted, there is a tiny portion of humanity that doesn’t care much about money. But that altruistic minority are already building a better world. They don’t need to be bought.
The average Nick on the Street needs to be given a penny for your thoughts. He won’t take your thoughts/ideas/suggestions without a little cash coming into his hands. This may sound cynical – it’s not. I’m just reporting the state of humanity. It’s been this way for millennia.
But here’s the good news. As societies become wealthier, people live longer, healthier lives. Girls grow up before they marry. Air becomes cleaner. Cities become safer. I’ve travelled a lot – including south Asia, South America, rural Mexico, central Europe – and I’ve seen that people don’t need much to be happy. But it’s only after the kids are fed and safe that we think about clean rivers and clear skies. We need a certain level of prosperity before we can save the planet.
In this new decade, let’s do what we can to make the world a little wealthier. What can we do? Beekeeping is one of the skills you might pass along. Perhaps honey bees, kept in vast numbers in the wrong places, have a bad effect on ecology. Nevertheless, a colony or two of honey bees can lift people out of poverty and give under-employed women and men a livelihood to pursue with dignity. Beekeeping encourages practical skills and business acumen while yielding wholesome food. Want to make a difference in 2020 and beyond? Support responsible beekeeping through community outreach, especially in developing areas. It can change lives and create a better world.
May you help others prosper in 2020.
As 2019 draws to a close, let’s look back at some of the year’s beekeeping stories. Honey prices were lower again in 2019, forcing some beekeepers out of the business. Still, many countries now have more honey bees than anytime in history, although other bee species are disappearing. 2019 was the year that we became aware of the insect apocalypse. We also learned that, unlike Jack Sprat, varroa eats fat. And nearly half of the honey exhibited by beekeepers at Apimondia contained some chemical contaminants. Finally, we note the passing of research scientist Tibor Szabo, who had spent 70 years studying bees – and was awarded the prestigious Order of Canada for his work.
Well, 2019 is over. This year, I managed to publish 73 blog posts (about 40,000 words). Read them all, if you have time. But if time is your enemy, here were the ten most visited posts on the Bad Beekeeping Blog during 2019:
1) How many honey bees are there? (About two trillion.)
2) Comb on demand (Manufacturing artificial, fully- draw wax comb.)
3) Apimondia 2019: Wednesday (And a scandal) (40% of honey entries were chemically contaminated.)
4) Good Neighbour Beekeeping (How to be a good beekeeping neighbour.)
5) Ulee Jackson has died (Actor Peter Fonda was Ulee Jackson.)
6) Have you ever seen a queen like this? (A strangely-pale queen and her drones.)
7) The Death of Sylvia Plath (The greatest bee-poet of her generation.)
8) If it looks like a bee, it’s a wasp (Wasp, bee – what’s the diff?)
9) At least one of these bees is a laying worker (Laying workers are a lot more common than we thought.)
10) Winter’s coming – are you insulated? (Button up!)
I certainly could not let this year pass without a note or two about Richard Taylor, American beekeeper and philosopher. He would have reached 100 years in November. Alas, he expired seventeen years earlier.
It’s hard to say which of his lives will have the longer legacy – his beekeeping or his philosophizing. His university textbook, Metaphysics, was used in colleges for over thirty years. Even now, his many beekeeping books are read daily by beekeepers who want a simpler perspective on sideline beekeeping. He wrote with the authority of a life-long beekeeper who had 300 hives in upstate New York. And he had a clear and easy writing style in all his work.
In November, I wrote an article about Richard Taylor for American Bee Journal. If you missed it, you should subscribe to ABJ. Each monthly edition of the magazine is over 100 pages and almost every page is worth reading. The yearly cost for the online version is about what you’d get by selling three one-pound jars of honey. If you don’t subscribe already, here’s a link to my article, you can read it for free. Maybe it will convince you to read the magazine.
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