2020 - A bad year for blogs, but a good year for bugs

It has been a bad year for blogs, but a good year for bugs.

 

I have not written here since June, not for lack of motivation, but because life has become busier thanks to this Year of the Virus.

The virus has been deadly for far too many humans. But the lockdown has helped nature to thrive, starting with the insects. Here are a few examples:

First, a remarkably white spider.

...and the murderer was...Mrs White, in the Conservatory

 

Then - a reassurance for what you are about to read - two pollinators on our enthusiastic Cardus thistle.

 

This gives me a buzz, honey...

A beautifully camouflaged Hawk moth - I think it may be a Lime Hawk moth, Mimas tiliae, on the donkey stable door.

Green Hawk Down

 

And now for the bad news. My bees have died, victims of the Asian Hornet, Vespa velutina. Despite my best efforts with a solar-powered electric trap, and netting, the hornets got into the hives and killed all of the occupants.

To be, or Not to bee

 

I found the last hornet, itself killed by the bees, on the 6th December. 

The gory remains

 

I am going to take some time before I start see-keeping again. It's fascinating, but I don't want to risk starting again, until I understand better how to manage this new predator.

 

So 2020 - a bug year..

Hypodermic murder

Every time they leave the safety of the hive, the bees are exposed to dangerous, bloody, unforgiving Nature. Fly too high, and the beautiful bee eaters (Merops apiaster) will catch them. Hang around outside the hive, and the imported Asian Hornet (Vespa velutina) will capture, and then disect them.

But I'd never seen this before. An Assassin Bug, Rhinocoris iracundus, killing a bee, by stabbing it with its hypodermic mouth parts and then - I assume - sucking the insides out like some honeyed cocktail:

Fly-by dinner

Juiced in time for tea

Table setting, with orange blossom

 It's rough, out here at the Croft.

Sticky end

This is what happens when you try to raid honey from my hives. You get got:

Caught in the Matrix

I found this hawk moth (Sphingidae) corpse when I was cleaning out the hives this winter.

Sex Bombus

Sex, for bees, is famously terminal, at least for the male. Rather like the spider that eats its mate, the male bumble bee (Bombus spp) will die after it mates with the queen.

Bombus sex is having your end away, in every sense of the phrase...

Trap!

The fight-back against the Asian Hornet, Vespa velutina, has started.

I built these traps using some stuff from the local household store, and baited them with Catalan white wine, my honey, organic brown sugar and locally-caught fish. Frankly, if the Asian hornets aren't attracted by that menu, and the low food-mile count, I will be amazed...

One way to the winery

The instructions for this type of trap are pretty widely available. The funnel has a 10mm hole, through which hornets and bees can pass, but the exit holes, just above the internal wire base, are just 6mm in diameter. Large enough for a honey bee to escape, but too small for the hornet. The inverted bowl above the trap keeps the rain out (and thus avoids diluting the bait - no-one wants watered-down wine...)

I'll check them in a week to see if they have captured anything useful.

Bad for Bees

The dreaded Asian Hornet, Vespa velutina, has arrived.

I caught this one on Friday:

Ruler or ruled

Bee stung

I had seen one buzzing past me up at the hives on Friday morning, but identifying the fast-flying hornet is very difficult. Luckily (unlucky for her) this one stopped for a moment on some wax frames I had outside, and I caught her.

The excellent Agents Rurals have confirmed the identification...

Hornet Horror

Last week (24th August) I saw an Asian hornet, Vespa velutina, at the beehives. Not good news. The hornets are capable of killing off whole hives of bees.

I phoned the Agents Rurals (a rural warden service) who where quick and efficient, arriving an hour after my call with a trap and a load of instructions.

I have been checking the trap and the area around the hives; the clue is to look for the severed heads of worker bees. The hornet takes the thorax, which provides protein for its larvae.

So far I have not found any.

But I am on guard:

Kung Fu Crofter

Bee Tongue

A fascinating piece - if you like words - from the University of Barcelona, has helped me understand why people in Catalonia use so many words for beehive. Some people here say it's a 'rusc' and others that it is an 'arna.'

Research by Maria-Pilar Perea and Germà Colón Domènech at the University of Barcelona that might be of interest to Dr Jarrett over in his Corner of 10th Century Europe, shows the development of at least six words or phrases for beehive. 

'Rusc' in yellow, 'arna' in green

Their map shows how 'rusc' was the word used in the Barcelona area, while 'arna' was used in western Catalonia, at least since the 13th century.

Which of course led me back to Scotland, where I can remember my Mum using a word that was not 'hive.'  She called a hive a 'bee-howff', which means a bee-residence or bee lodge.

In Scots we also have;

• Bee-bike, or byke, defined in the Scots Dialect Dictionary as a wild bees' nest, and in Chambers Scots Dictionary as also meaning a swarm, an assembly of people, or unexpected good luck. In the old days, finding a wild bees' nest was unexpected good luck
• Bink, defined in The Scots Thesaurus as a hive
• Ruskie, a straw beehive

Truly we speak in bee-tongues.


Special thanks to Teresa at the Catalan Beekeepers Association for this information.

Runny Honey

My first honey harvest today!

Miquel had loaned me his centrifuge, and today started sunny and calm, so I set out the kitchen ready for the harvest:

Not ergonomic, but it works

I sealed the windows. Not to stop the bees coming in, but to stop them getting out. If they escape they head off to tell their mates, and in no time you have 10,000 bees trying to get in to rob your harvested honey.

Then up to the hives with all the necessary equipment...

..and back with one full upper and two sets of frames. It has been rainy, so the bees are not yet really ready with the honey.

In the kitchen I weighed the honey.

That honey is dense

Then removed the cappings from the frames, centrifuged them and filtered the  honey. 

Watch that knife, Crofter.

 

Result: 26.5kg of fresh honey!

Spring has Sprung

Walking in the mountains above the Croft today we came across these beautiful Hepatica nobilis, flowering at 1100 metres.

A Noble Liver, indeed

Spring is here, and the bees are getting busy. When I opened a hive this past weekend I found bee larvae in various stages of development, on the top bars of the hive. I am now on constant swarm-patrol, watching out for signs of queen cells...

Who took the roof off?

Spring Nectar

The bees are out. 

Green flower power

It's the early flowering in this unusually early spring, as our Mediterranean Buckthorn (Rhamnus alaternus) produces its anonymous wee green flowers. 

The Buckthorns are buzzing with bees - my wee black bees, and big bumble bees. Spring has sprung.

Mummified with Mummy

In republican Catalan, the queen bee is "la mare", the mother. And when mother is missing, everything in the hive goes wrong. There are not enough workers to defend the hive and the dreaded wax moth gets in.

But when mother is home, enter at your peril:

A bit stuck up

Here is what happened to a dragon fly that entered one of my hives; it was mummified in propolis. This is the sticky compound produced by bees from tree sap, buds and other places. The defender bees - these, just in case of any doubt are all female - surrounded and attacked the dragonfly, removed its tail and coated it in gluey, sticky, propolis. Not a nice way to die, but probably a warning to anything else that might want to get in there.

When mummy is at home even dragons are mummified.

Honey, I'm waxed

My plans for a hive-full of honey have been poleaxed by the wax moth, Achroia grisella. Against the advice of my mentor, Miguel the honey man, I had kept a hive without a queen. The results - a weakened hive unable to defend itself against the moth - are dramatic:

Moth invasion

Coo-coo cocoon

I took down the hive at the weekend, scattering the few bees left there to the four winds, and incinerated the whole lot as a precaution.

Burn 'em all

Bee day

I've been at the bees today:

I can't give up smoking

I am a total beginner at bees, so I'm likely to make mistakes. But this, for pretty well sure, is a frame of capped brood in the typical oval laying pattern at the centre of the frame, with a ring of larvae around it, and a ring of honey beyond that:

I was framed, mate