Newbees

Moonlit beekeeping - at roughly 4°C - not something we do routinely. The compassionate Master Beekeeper from our association offered us a colony to supplement our solitary over-wintered one. We picked it up at 6pm; the sun set at 6.05pm. By the time we reached our apiary, we were in the gloaming, needing torches to see what we were doing. Our journey through the Warwickshire backwoods was rewarded with a barn owl and many very young rabbits, as well as two crows, grappling in mid-air, falling and wheeling like an autums leaf. We startled 4 or 5 muntjac out of the orchard

The hive was carried to a stand (two concrete blocks) that I prepared yesterday. The ratchet straps that held everything firm - to ensure we did not have a car full of confussd bees - were removed. The temporary travel roof was replaced with a weather-proof one. The sponge blocking the entrance was removed. 

If there is a little warmth and sun tomorrow, they can begin exploring their new home. If it's warm enough, they will spend time hovering outside, facing the hive, storing a mental picture of the location and how returning to it will look when they start foraging. This 'reorientation' is a necessary part of relocation, to avoid foragers getting lost. On a warm day, I'll move them into our own hive so that I can return the borrowed one

I asked a few questions about their history. They originated as a swarm, quite late last season. Late swarms often happen because the queen is getting to the end of her reproductive life. As soon as the swarm has found a new home and got itself established, the colony create new queens. If these hatch, and one of them mates successfully and begins laying, the colony (usually) kill the old queen and consolidate with the new one. This process - 'supersedure' - is exactly what this one has done. Unsentimental, but it gave them the best chance of surviving winter, and the strategy has paid off

So, a new colony, a new home, a new hive, a new queen, a new season, a new beginning