Bee Space - An introduction

The first of a series of posts, copied from my recently-concluded newspaper column

Over the next few months I’ll be reposting the beekeeping column I recently concluded with the Boyertown Bulletin. It was a lot of fun to write about one of my favorite subjects for a local audience. My mother suggested that I throw these on my substack, so props to her for the suggestion - also, hi Mom!

This post will include two of the columns, since the first is too much of an introductory introduction.

Can you spot the queen in the above picture?

INTRODUTION | BEE SPACE - November 2023

Maybe you had a grandfather or an aunt that kept a few hives. Perhaps you’ve seen hives on the edge of a crop field, or tucked away in a suburban backyard. “The poetry of rural economy,” is what Lorenzo Langstroth called beekeeping, because as far as animal husbandry, there’s nothing else quite like it. And if you are interested in bees, you’re reading the right column.

This column, “Bee Space,” is not just going to be musings about the little critters that make a lot of our agriculture possible, though we’ll do that too. I intend to use this column to talk to you, the aspiring beekeeper, about how I got started in the craft, what I had to look out for, how a honey harvest works, and much more.

Working closely with Eric and the staff here at The Boyertown Bulletin, we’ve timed this column to follow me as I walk through the steps I’d take to succeed in keeping bees. For instance, we’ll start next month with some thoughts on building your own operation from scratch. That column will cover my favorite beekeeping book, the equipment needed to get an apiary (the fancy word for a bee yard) set up, and some considerations on placement. Is a suburban backyard adequate for keeping bees? How many hives should I get? How much do I need to spend? We’ll tackle it all.

By next spring, we’ll have talked about what to expect when the shipment of bees arrives, how I avoid getting stung, and what one can expect in the way of a honey harvest. Later, we’ll also cover the biggest threats to bees and how to deal with them head on before they become a problem.

You’re probably wondering why anyone should read what I have to say about bees. While I’m no expert, and not a professional beekeeper, my wife tells me I’ve kept bees long enough to know all the things that can go wrong. It’s been eight seasons now, and each year a learning experience. I’ve experimented with raising queens, caught countless swarms in my own traps, advised landowners on swarm removal, been to several beekeeping conferences, and otherwise immersed myself in the craft. Importantly, I’ve gotten multiple beekeepers educated enough to start their own apiaries, which is one of my proudest achievements. I may have been stung a few dozen times. And, for shameless self-promotion purposes, my beekeeping thriller, Here, the Bees Sting, is available on Amazon as an e-book or in print if you want to delve into my more creative take on bees.

Before next month’s column to talk beekeeping basics, let’s mention what kind of bees we’re talking about when it comes to beekeeping, and if you’re intimidated by the thought of sticking your hands into several thousand bees, how you can support your local pollinator.

Beekeeping covered in this column will involve apis mellifera, the European honey bee. This transplant came over with European migrants, a topic I covered in my talk at the Boyertown Historical Society in April of 2023, titled Honey bee Conquest.

As a domesticated insect with agricultural value, the honey bee doesn’t “need” our help. It has plenty. But the species that do need our help are native bees. Sacrifice some of your green lawn for wildflower beds will be a nice boost for hungry pollinators, and let you observe bees without all the gear. We’ll cover this in depth in a future column.

Next month, we’ll talk about what I consider important when starting out an apiary.

The Startup Hive | BEE SPACE - December 2023

When I started beekeeping, I started a year early. Beekeeping is complex, with a steep learning curve that favors the person who prepares. What I remind myself of every year is that beekeeping doesn’t take a lot of time, but timing is everything.

First, let’s talk purchases. Beekeeping, along with that steep learning curve, has a high upfront cost. The ongoing costs are not insignificant, either. I estimate that I set aside around $800 to get set up, including the bees themselves, who we’ll talk about in January or so.

Some of that money should go to reading up on our smallest species of livestock. My preferred beginner book is The Backyard Beekeeper by Kim Flottum. Even if I went commercial, I’d want a year to practice with a small apiary, and this is a fantastic resource. Flottum covers everything from starting up your hive to diseases that threaten your bees.

When it comes to equipment, I went for two complete hives, a smoker, a hive tool, and a veil, to start. I had these ordered by around September or October so I could mess around with them all winter. Yes, you read it right, you want two hives. It suffices to say in today’s column that two hives can share resources with one another in an emergency.

The smoker, a sort of tin can with a bellows attached to it, is where I create a smoldering fire. By pumping the bellows, a directed stream of smoke douses the hives. Smoke calms ornery bees and gives a beekeeper a few precious minutes to inspect a hive. The trusty hive tool is a beekeeper’s hive crowbar, allowing me to open resin-fused hive boxes. The veil, one of the most classically visible pieces of equipment, can be had in several versions. Covering the head and neck is the most important, since a sting to the face will swell badly.

Locally, Oley Valley Feed sells some of this equipment, and supporting local businesses in beekeeping ventures is always a good choice. Other vendors include large companies like Mann Lake and Dadant.

Before I order anything, placement is a concern. As a beekeeper, I get stung. There is no way around it (I talked to my doctor about an EpiPen prescription and have kept it up ever since.) But I also take every measure of safety when it comes to others getting stung. Stings can kill.

I try to be thoughtful in how I place hives. I consider the neighbors, and whether anyone may have a severe sting allergy. Once a hive is placed and the bees are installed, it stays there and cannot be easily moved. Bees fly out of the front door of their hive and there’s a “no-go” zone of about six feet square in front of a hive that I do not ever step into.

Every locality is different when it comes to beekeeping laws. The Borough of Boyertown does allow hives, however, according to my reading (caveat: I am not a lawyer), they need to “not create a public nuisance,” be located at least 100 feet from any lot line and 50 feet from any lot line if surrounded by a 6-foot fence or hedge. And the Borough can revoke beekeeping privileges if they interfere with neighbors (see Boyertown, Colebrookdale and Pike Joint Zoning Ordinance of 2010, Article 4, section 403.D.2., "Bees, Keeping Of".) I advise all readers to check their local laws and look for professional legal advice if you have specific questions.

Next month, we’ll do some history and talk about honey bees and their introduction to America.

Will Caverly is the author of the beekeeping thriller Here, the Bees Sting and lives in Chester County with his family. Find more of his work at www.willcaverly.com.