March 2, 2014
Last weekend, my son Ross and his friend Jonathon helped me move the bees from Lena, MS, to Pelahatchie, MS, where I now reside.
It was quite an experience, for sure! And, yes, I did get stung. The bees — naturally enough — preferred not to be disturbed.
Regular readers of my blogs and newsletter know that I’ve just moved to Pelahatchie, a little town (pop. 1400) about 30 miles from Lena (pop. 181), where I’ve resided for the past 15 years. It’s really “the big city” for me! There’s a grocery store only one block from my house; my health care provider, Linda, a nurse practitioner, is only two blocks away; and I’m only 30 minutes from my new job in Jackson. It used to take me about an hour and 15 minutes to get to work, each way! So, it’s a lot handier.
Of course, this move also spells the demise of ShooFly Farm. Annette and I operated it at Lena for 7 years. But she has now moved to North Carolina, and I’m not up to farming alone.
Also, my job is quite exciting — advising and consulting on sustainable, natural and organic farming with the National Center for Appropriate Technology (see: ncat,org). I’m also on the road a lot throughout the Gulf States region (MS, LA, AL, GA, FL), giving workshops and seminars, and speaking to farm groups and universities.
It’s quite kind of my new landlady to allow me to keep my bees and put in a garden, and I’m most grateful. The last thing I moved was the bees, last weekend. Here’s a photo essay:
My son Ross and his friend Jonathon prepare to move my bees. (Photo by Jim Ewing)
First, we all suited up and made our plans. You will notice that I’ve put nets on the hives. Large, commercial beekeepers just pick them up and toss them on the back of a truck, and if they lose a few hundred bees in transit, so be it.
But I’m not a large commercial beekeeper. I practice natural beekeeping, and I love my bees. I try to be as gentle as I can with them and minimize mortality. It’s stressful enough moving them, and something I wouldn’t do if I had a choice.
Each hive is placed on a wagon and gently moved to the waiting truck. (Photo by Jim Ewing)
I had tried to move the bees by myself the weekend before, but first, I got my truck stuck, since it had been raining so much, and then, I found that I could not lift the hives. Each weighed about 100 ponds or so. I had thought that since the hives were down to their lowest numbers, it being deep winter, and their honey would just about have been used up, that the weight would be less. I was wrong. It’s possible that they’ve been obtaining more honey from wildflowers or hen bit, a ground cover which is popping up. I’ll know more in a week or so when I start feeding them.
Ross and Jonathon move the bees about 100 yards to where my truck is parked. (Photo by Jim Ewing)
I’m glad I had the young men to help me. I couldn’t have moved the hives by myself — especially lifting the hives to put them on the cart, then on the truck, then from the truck to the cart, then to their new home.
The bees are transported to their new home. (Photo by Jim Ewing)
Up until we actually moved them on the truck to their new home, the bees had pretty much stayed in their hives. The temperature was the upper 30s. Generally, bees stay in their hives when the temperature is 48 or below; they stay in the hive and “unhook” their wings, so that they are shoulder to shoulder and “shiver” — as if they were flying — to generate heat to keep the queen and hive warm. This is how they survive even the harshest winters. Since it was cold when we started, they didn’t much venture out; except for a few scouts to see what in the heck was going on, and they were held close to the hive by the nets.
Bees seem happy in their new home. (Photo by Jim Ewing)
However, by the time we got the hives to Pelahatchie, the sun had warmed the hives and it was in the 50s. The bees were agitated by the 45 minute drive and upset about being moved. After we placed the hives on concrete blocks at their new home in Pelahatchie, I told Ross and Jonathon to go inside the house. Then, I removed the nets. Those bees and hundreds more of angry bees came out of both hives at that point. I walked away in a calm deliberate manner, which is normally the best way to not getting stung. Even so, I did get stung. One bee got under my veil (bee in my bonnet! 🙂 and stung me on the neck.
I always tell people who are thinking about keeping bees and are worried about it: If you are going to mess with bees, you will get stung! There’s no getting around that fact. But it’s also beneficial to one’s health to get stung every once in a while, in my opinion; it’s said that beekeepers have a much lower rate of arthritis than the general population; and “bee therapy” or intentionally getting stung has been around since the time of the ancient Greeks. So, while it did sting, it didn’t bother me that much.
Since I was stung on the neck, however, to be safe, I did go inside and take an antihistamine to prevent swelling (bee venom is a histamine). My neck itched for a couple of days, but that was about it.
I’ve checked on my bees every day since the move (without cracking open the hives; since that could compromise their internal atmosphere) and they seem to be adjusting nicely.
Jim PathFinder Ewing is a journalist, author, and former organic farmer now teaching natural, sustainable and organic agricultural practices. His latest book is Conscious Food: Sustainable Growing, Spiritual Eating (Findhorn Press). Find Jim on Facebook, follow him @EdiblePrayers or @OrganicWriter or visit blueskywaters.com.
shooflyfarmblog 