Year 4 March - Anticipation 🖊️

Spring Whispers at the Door

Hey there! As I peek out the front door, it’s like a hint of spring is tiptoeing in!

You know, it’s that time again. About a month ago, a wave of intellectual pessimism washed over me, and this year, it hit particularly hard. When I last laid eyes on the hives back in October, they were in a sorry state. I mean, I’ve never seen them struggle more. Viral infections were causing a ruckus, and to top it off, they were hit with a spray—twice!

Back in my commercial beekeeping days, I might have given them a solid shake-down, leaving only two hives standing. Heck, if I had a strong hive for comparison, I might have shaken those last two as well.

But times have changed. I’m no longer in the commercial beekeeping game. The sorry state of those bees four months ago was an anomaly, far from the norm since I embraced natural beekeeping over a decade ago. Last year, I decided to let nature take the reins. I’ve been doing everything in my power to help them pull through, crossing my fingers for the best.

Today, the sun’s rays carry a touch of warmth, the days stretch a bit longer, and there’s this inner voice singing, “Spring is coming.” Sure, my backyard is still sprinkled with snow, and more is on the way. I’ve grown accustomed to cutting lilac blossoms amid a chilly spring snowfall. But lilac blossoms are a few months down the road. Those snowy days are crucial, providing water throughout the summer for both bees and the local water supply. Yet, today, it’s about the promise of spring, not the snow or past troubles.

The Beekeeper’s Hope

With spring comes hope—a must-have trait for any beekeeper. The work is tough, and the risk of failure is ever-present. Beekeepers are a bit romantic, maybe even goofy when it comes to these buzzing wonders. I sometimes wonder if there’s a bee-produced pheromone that hooks beekeepers, making us slightly addicted?

Wyoming might not be basking in spring weather like the rest of the country, where beekeepers are deep into discussions about queens, splits, and swarms. Still, even in Wyoming, there’s a window of opportunity to check in on my bees. The temperature is forecasted to approach 60°F for a day, and if luck is on my side, I might navigate through the snowdrifts and mud to reach my beeyard.

There won’t be much I can do on this visit—no broodnest work; it’s still too cold and windy. The hives stand apart, soaking up the sun’s warmth. Frames of honey are doled out where needed, and any fallen comrades are given a final cleanup before hauling the equipment home.

The Big Reveal

What will I find? Did those wild 100+ mph winds rip through the lightly propolized, new equipment despite the hefty rocks I piled on top? Did the horses or other critters pay a visit? Did viruses or starvation claim some lives?

I’m hopeful, eagerly anticipating this visit. Who knows, maybe most have weathered the storm and are gearing up to surprise me! ✨

-Cheers, D 🍂🐝