FaceTime Traveler

Wednesday, November 16th, 2016  

It’s another gloomy, wet day here in Newport, Washington. How may days has it been like this? I ponder, as I sit listening to the morning news and finish my second cup of coffee. Startled by the vibration and ringing in my pocket, I pull out my phone. Who could be calling me this morning? My home care nurse? Another solicitor? No, it’s a FaceTime call! I answer and am magically transported two-thousand one-hundred miles east to Honey Hill Farm in Nicholasville, Kentucky. On my screen, is a image of my daughter-in-law. “Hi,” she greets, “Thought you might want to accompany me as I inspect my hives.” 

“Sure!” I say. “I certainly do.” She switches the camera to forward view so I can watch as we walk up the hill.  Ahead are two hives, then two more to the left as she pans the camera around. Farther ahead I can barely make out two more. Unlike Newport, it’s a warm and sunny day in Nicholasville. The camera jiggles erratically as we walk. I can hear the dry leaves and grass crunch under her feet and imagine the sweet smell of decaying oak leave and dew as we approach the hives. 

The camera switches back to an image of Ruthie. She is dressed in her bright white bee suit, smiling through a screened veil as she explains that this is a perfect day to inspect the hives because it is so warm. “Going to get to seventy today,” she says.  

Behind her, I can see the oak trees at the top of the hill with orangish-brown leaves still clinging to the branches. Behind them is a cloudless blue sky. Around Ruth’s hat buzz honey bees poking at the net as they warn her away. “I didn’t bring the smoker with me today,” she confesses. “Just lazy.” In the distance, I hear a lingering songbird singing brightly. Probably a farewell tune as he prepares for his southerly flight. 

Ruth switches the camera back to forward view and I watch as we open the first hive. There are a few bees on top and they seem lethargic and sluggish. Slowly they disappear between the frames. “There should be more bees here,” Ruthie says. She explains that earlier this season she treated the hives with Api Life VAR, a ‘soft’ chemical made with thymol and other essential oils to kill hive mites. Hive mites can devastate a hive over the winter if not treated.  

But could the treatment be the reason the bees are so lethargic? I wonder, as Ruth pulls the frames to observe what the bees have been doing this fall. We notice the frames are packed with bees and heavy with honey which reassures us they have an adequate supply of winter food. One after another, we inspect the hives together. Some are like the first, sparsely populated with lazy bees. Other hives are robust and active. All the hives have plenty of honey for winter.

However, there is another mystery here. While there is lots of honey in the hives they lack any signs of brood cells and very few pollen cells to feed new brood. Could the treatment for mites somehow damage the queens ability to lay eggs? Would the current population be able to live through the winter without new bees? 

We speculate as to what the cause could be for this behavior. It just might be normal—although it wasn’t observed in previous years.  As Ruthie replaces the frames and closes the last hive, we agree she should contact her beekeeping mentor and find out what, if anything, needs to be done before winter sets in.   

Then I notice a weird sort of vehicle near the hives. I saw it, a time or two before, as the camera flew past. It was long and low to the ground which makes me wonder if it is some sort of new ATV. “Oh, you mean Black Lighting?” she ask. “No, it’s just an old lawn mower given to us by friends who have since moved from the area. John put new tires on the back and removed some of the broken fairing that surrounded the engine.”  

The tractor has an exceptionally low gear and is very slow (tongue-in-cheek Black Lightning) but perfect for climbing the steep hill to the hives. Ruth said she attached the small trailer to carry her bee keeping tools. Because it is small, the tractor can turn and maneuver easily in small spaces. I remember carrying five gallon buckets full of bee tools and sometimes sugar water up that hill and realized Black Lighting was the perfect solution for such a task.

After we said good-bye, and disconnected from FaceTime, I considered what a wonderful adventure I just had. I felt refreshed by the excursion. The November sunshine of Honey Hill Farm kept me warm all day. I chuckle thinking someday I might get a chance to ride Black Lightning up that hill!