I’m finding inspecting my allotment bees a new thing, quite different to the beekeeping I’ve done in the past. These are the first bees I’m inspecting alone on a regular basis.
I cycle to the allotment alone – this in itself is a new experience! Before Drew gave me my bike a year ago I hadn’t cycled in city streets since I was a teenager. And back then I’d cycled on pavements and in parks, not on the roads. Cycling gives me a peculiar feeling of freedom tinged with fear. It is a joyful thing to zoom along with my heavy beekeeping equipment balanced in a basket, but cars behind me in narrow streets bring an element of stress.
Once at the allotment, I unlock the gate and wheel my bike down the grassy paths between the plots, past beautiful flowers and a huge variety of vegetables. It doesn’t take long to reach my plot, where I light my smoker alone on a bench under the apple tree. This week, I had a huge problem getting any of my matches to turn to flame. Maybe they had got soggy at some point. It was a relief when I heard that rushing noise and got my egg boxes to burn. Then the smoker went out – twice!
Without any other humans around, it’s just me and the bees. I concentrate and lose myself in their hum. My main focus is on trying not to squash any as I move the combs out to inspect. I am afraid not of them but for them – they are so little, so delicate! A misplaced thumb can still them forever. It is they who should be terrified of me. Like cycling, for me beekeeping is freedom and joy with nagging twinges of worry. I hate the crunching noise of a squashed bee.
Absorbed in slow, steady movements, looking out for eggs and potential queen cells, I have no time to think about anything else. Troubles are forgotten as I twist the frames round and watch the bees dancing on the comb. This is the gift the bees give me.
This year the allotment hive, headed up by the newly named Queen Stella, have been curiously well behaved. They have made no attempt to swarm – but neither have they made much honey. They are plodding along. The photo below is of a super belonging to a luckier beekeeper.
I’m not sure whether beekeeping alone makes me a better beekeeper or not. I probably make less silly mistakes, because I’m not being distracted by trying to carry on a conversation or answer questions while I inspect. I lose my hive tool slightly less often.
On the other hand, if I always did beekeeping alone I could miss out on alternative ideas and ways of doing things that have not occurred to me. It is always good to learn from other beekeepers, to watch them and pick up on successful or indeed disastrous movements and techniques they use. And of course the bonus of having a hive partner is that you have someone to help lift heavy boxes and chat with over tea.
What do you think, do you prefer beekeeping alone or with a audience?