Please help find Arnis Zalkalns

EDIT: on Saturday 4th October a body thought to be that of suspect Arnis Zalkalns was found in Boston Manor Park. I am going to keep this post up in memory of Alice.


This is not beekeeping related, but I feel the need to write about it.

A visitor to my local area might think we’re celebrating some kind of festival. Yellow ribbons festoon the lampposts and park railings, their cheerful colour waving in the breeze.

But there is nothing to celebrate. A month ago, on the 28th August, a young 14 year old girl named Alice Gross went missing. Like me, she liked walking and had gone out for a long walk alone along the nearby canal running through Hanwell. CCTV footage showed her apparently returning in the direction of home under one of the canal bridges.

At first it seemed hopeful that she might have run away. Perhaps she would return. Posters were put out in Hanwell, in Ealing, in West London generally. Her face smiled out at all the passers by. The yellow ribbons were tied as a sign of hope and support for her family, to raise awareness of her disappearance.

Then a week later her rucksack was discovered; it contained her shoes. This was bad – who  would run away and leave their bag and shoes behind? Worse, in the middle of September the police revealed that they were searching for the 41-year-old Latvian builder Arnis Zalkalns, who himself had gone missing in early September. He is a convicted murderer in his home country. Having served seven years there for murdering his wife, a crime he confessed to, he was free to come to this country.

Yesterday Alice’s body was found in the canal.

No-one can return Alice to her family. But there must be someone out there who knows where Arnis Zalkalns is, or might spot him. He has quite an unusual and distinctive face, narrow and long with a prominent nose and chin. This is a photo of him as a young man:

And an older photo:

Zalkalns has been described as white, 5’10”, of stocky build and with dark brown hair that he normally wears tied in a pony tail.

Alice’s family deserve justice. And he needs to be stopped before this happens again. It’s worth mentioning that in 2009, Zalkalns was arrested for allegedly assaulting another fourteen year old teenager in Ealing. The case was dropped because she decided not to make a statement, but perhaps if support for victims were better, and courts less intimidating and accusatory towards victims, the outcome might have been different.

If you think you might have seen him since his disappearance, please please let the police know. Anyone with information on his whereabouts or that can assist the investigation is asked to call the incident room on 0208 358 0100, the police non-emergency line 101 or Crimestoppers on 0800 555 111.

More information on the case:

1st Honey bee products and forage revision post: a list of floral sources of unpalatable honey;

I have decided to take the BBKA’s Module 2 exam, ‘Honeybee products and forage‘ in November. If I manage to pass, I’ll have passed Modules 1,2,3 & 6, which means I’ll be awarded the BBKA Intermediate Theory Certificate. Woo hoo!

But to pass I need to revise, something which often isn’t that appealing after a day at work. To kick me off, I’m going to learn a nice simple part of the syllabus: 2.24, a list of floral sources of unpalatable honey.

Unpalatable honey sources

The nectar of a few flowers produces honey which is unpleasant to taste, while a even smaller number of nectars are poisonous to bees or to humans when condensed into honey.

Commonest unpalatable honeys in the UK

  • Privet – bitter taste

Celia Davis says of privet “it is very unlikely to be a problem as only very rarely are bees likely to collect large quantities of its nectar. Even so, a fairly small amount can damage the  flavour of other nectars mixed with it.”

The Collins Beekeeper’s Bible comments that privet honey is “very strong flavoured, making it objectionable and unpalatable unless it is blended with lighter honeys.” It flowers during May to June.

Privet – © RHS 2002

  • Common Ragwort – bitter taste

A bright, long-flowering plant which is very popular with bees. It’s tough and can grow in waste land, road sides, rough areas of parks etc.

Celia Davis describes ragwort as being “very attractive to bees… likely to produce quantities of extractable honey which smells horrible when it is fresh. If it is allowed to stand and granulate, the flavour improves and some beekeepers use it to blend with other, less flavoursome honeys. The plant contains several pyrrolizidine alkaloids which are responsible for the deaths of quite a few horses each year.” Ragwort honey is not thought to be dangerous to humans, as it seems likely that someone would have to eat a huge amount of honey to do themselves any harm.

Ted Hooper concurs, saying of ragwort honey “it is bright yellow and has so offensive an odour that when first extracted it is completely unpalatable. Once granulated however, the smell is lost and the honey quite good.”

Clive de Bruyn is also positive about ragwort honey, commenting in his classic book Practical beekeeping (1997) “The honey is a deep yellow with a strong flavour thought by some to be obnoxious. I personally find that it adds a bit of interest.” He goes on to say “Concern has been raised over the possibility of the honey containing pyrrolizidine alkaloids (PAs). A recent MAFF survey to assess levels of PAs in UK honey produced by bees with access to ragwort stated that there was no cause for alarm.” MAFF being the Ministry of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food, now known as DEFRA.

Honeybee on ragwort

Honeybee on ragwort

Unpleasant to some:

  • Ivy – bitter taste

From the point of view of bees ivy must be a wonderful plant, flowering in September to October when little other forage is about.

However, some people find ivy honey far too bitter. Here’s a description of ivy honey from Cornwall by Elizabeth Gowing in her wee masterpiece, “The Little Book of Honey“:

The aroma is surprisingly flowery and light, but the taste is certainly not. It’s not a very sweet honey, and there is a bitter kick in it which hits you as the crystallised paste melts in your mouth.

I tried to place the flavour and then I got it – if a pointy-chinned woman got out her wand and turned a Stilton into a honey, this is what it would taste like.

And is that a good thing? I’m not convinced.”

To read more about Elizabeth’s bitter experiences with ivy honey, see her post Ivy honey from the Lizard Peninsula.

Yet others, myself included, prefer a honey that isn’t super-sweet and has more character. There are beekeepers with customers who specially request ivy honey. As I’ve got older my tastebuds have changed a bit and I’ve come to appreciate more sour and bitter foods such as olives, grapefruit juice and even gherkins, which used to make me wince.

Ivy flowers

Ivy flowers

Honeys which are poisonous to humans:

Many of the plants in the Ericaceae family, such as RhododendronPieris, Agarista and Kalmia, produce poisonous nectars which contain grayanotoxins.

  • Rhododendron spp

Rhododrendrons are widely grown in the UK (they originally came from East Asia) but I haven’t heard of any reported cases of people here being affected by the honey; Celia Davis suggests this is because honey bees are not very interested in their flowers.

Cases of poisoning from this “mad honey” have been reported in Turkey and America though. It’s said that ancient Greeks and Romans used to leave rhododendron honey in the path of invading armies. The soldiers would eat the sweet treat and end up vomiting and dizzy from grayanotoxin, a toxin contained in the honey. The effects rarely prove fatal but probably would have halted or slowed down the army for a couple of days.

The Collins Beekeeper’s Bible contains a tale of mad honey poisoning from the British botanist, plant-hunter and explorer Frank Kingdon-Ward. His memoir Plant-hunter’s Paradise (1937) vividly describes his experiences with rhododendron honey in northern Burma, near Tibet. The effect on the honey on him and his companions was a delirium similar to acute alcohol poisoning. Strangely the local Tibetans seemed to eat it without ill effects – or perhaps they just ate less than the greedy Europeans?

Ted Hooper mentions a case of bee deaths in the Isle of Colonsay in 1955 – the island was planted with a large number of Rhododendron thomsonii which subsequently poisoned whole colonies.

See more:

  • Grayanotoxin Poisoning: ‘Mad Honey Disease’ and Beyond
    A scientific paper on mad honey. Contains a fascinating description from the Greek warrior-writer Xenophon in 401 BC on the effects of the honey on an army –  “those who had eaten a great deal seemed like crazy, or even, in some cases, dying men”
  • A rare case of “honey intoxication” in Seattle
    Rusty at Honey Bee Suite reports on the case of a man poisoned by honey purchased at a local farmer’s market. Like Celia Davis, Rusty’s observations have led her to believe “that rhododendron is not a preferred forage for honey bees and they probably collect it only in rare circumstances when other more favorable blooms are not available.” – EDIT: please see brookfieldfarmhoney‘s comment below on 16th Jan 2015 for the inside scoop on this – the scientist involved had his words twisted by the media.
  • “Mad Honey” sex is a bad idea
    That got your attention!
  • Hallucinogen Honey Hunters documentary
    Added after P&B mentioned it in the comments below – thanks! A tribe in Nepal hunt wild rhododendron honey with natural psychoactive properties. One falls unconscious after overdosing on the honey.

Photo by Dendroica cerulea Photo of rhododendron by Dendroica cerulean

Kalmia latifolia

Commonly called mountain-laurel. This grows in the UK, but not in large enough quantities to cause problems. It is native to the eastern U.S.

According to Wikipedia’s entry on Kalmia latifola, “The green parts of the plant, flowers, twigs, and pollen are all toxic, including food products made from them, such as toxic honey that may produce neurotoxic and gastrointestinal symptoms in humans eating more than a modest amount. Fortunately the honey is sufficiently bitter to discourage most people from eating it, whereas it does not harm bees sufficiently to prevent its use as winter bee fodder. Symptoms of toxicity begin to appear about 6 hours following ingestion. Symptoms include irregular or difficulty breathing, anorexia, repeated swallowing, profuse salivation, watering of the eyes and nose, cardiac distress, incoordination, depression, vomiting, frequent defecation, weakness, convulsions, paralysis, coma and eventually death.”

So please don’t go trying it.

Kalmia latifolia

The beautiful but deadly mountain laurel ©RHS

Nectars which are poisonous to bees?

  • Silver lime
  • Silver pendant lime, also known as weeping lime

Some loopy plants make themselves poisonous to their own pollinators – or do they?

There has been some disagreement about whether lime trees poison bumble-bees, or bumble-bees run out of energy whilst feeding on them and die.

In 1997 Clive de Bruyn observed that “The culprits are mainly the late flowering species during dry weather when the nectar is concentrated… Such poisoning is not common and is dependent on the season, district and species of lime. One species that is known to affect bees is the pendant silver lime Tulia petoliaris, a beautiful tree, symmetrical with a rounded top. It can grow to 24m (80ft). Bees appear to get drunk on the nectar, and bumble bees are especially prone. They can sometimes be found dead under the trees in great numbers.”

However, more recent research seems to indicate that the cause of bumbles being found dead under lime trees is their foraging behaviour, rather than toxic nectar. Science writer Philip Strange has left some very useful comments below, including this link on lime trees on the Bumblebee Conservation Trust’s website: Finding dead bees.

As Philip sums up below, “It seems they continue feeding on lime nectar even when levels are low and so they run out of energy. Honeybees don’t do this, they look elsewhere before they exhaust themselves.” Angela Woods of the London Beekeepers Association also left me a plausible comment on a Facebook discussion I started – “Perhaps it is because bumbles have less stores in their nests and this tree tends to flower in the ‘gap’ when other sources of nectar are scarce … I was called out last summer to a street in Holland Park lined with silver limes and there were tons of poor bumbles dead under each tree. It was depressing to see.”

Have you had any experiences of toxic or unpleasant honey, or found bees dead by any of these plants? If so I would be interested to hear about it.


Collins Beekeeper’s Bible (2010)
Guide to Bees & Honey,
Ted Hooper (2010)
The Honey Bee Around & About
, Celia Davis (2007)
Practical beekeeping, Clive de Bruyn (1997)

Time to smite some mites

This weekend it was time to replace our first lot of Apiguard treatment and put the second round of trays on. Can you guess which of our colonies had cleaned every last inch of their Apiguard tray empty and shining after two weeks?


Our new queen Melissa’s of course (Melissa being our old favourite Myrtle’s daughter). These bees truly are perfection – gentle, productive honey makers, hygienic.


A worrying sight in Chilli’s hive – a couple of piles of dead bees. Had they met a sudden end, perhaps in a fight with a wasp or robber bee? We helped their surviving sisters clean up by cremating the dead in our smoker.

Pollen supplement

Queen Stella’s allotment bees are doing well – above they’re enjoying a Nektapoll pollen patty treat. All yellow and squidgy. As soon as I wedge it in-between the bars they start nibbling away at it.

Last week I turned up in time to see one of the workers fly into a big spider’s web behind my hive. I felt like it was a beekeeper’s job to rescue bees from hungry spiders, so I fished her out before the spider pounced. Further drama ensued as upon putting her on the hive roof I noticed a varroa mite on her thorax! It’s pretty difficult trying to dislodge a mite a couple of millimetres long from a moving bee which doesn’t want you touching her back. I tried my best and the mite disappeared, but to be honest I think it just hid somewhere else on the bee’s body. Still, she had been saved by death by spider!

Varroa mites

Hopefully the mite is now on that there varroa monitoring board above, knocked out by Apiguard. I have put on some arrows pointing to the mites, which are brown and shiny. Observant eyes at the right angles can spot the ends of their legs pointing out. There are a lot more than two on there, but I didn’t fancy doing an arrow for every mite.

And obviously you can never have too many monitoring boards, so here’s another! Pretty orange pollen and wax flakes on this one. The lines match up with the gaps between the frames.

Varroa monitoring board

I had left some space in the hive and the allotment bees had built some spectacular comb – big, drone cell sized but so far completely empty. I couldn’t really let them keep it as it would have created a lot of mess, so I trimmed it off, brought it home and how have it on display in my window.

Empty honey comb

Honeycomb held up to the light

Magnificent engineering. Finally, here’s a couple of photos from my walks through London recently…

Painter by the Shard

I ate my lunch while watching this painter doing a bridge and boats scene along the Thames. In the background is the Shard. It was quite hard to take a photo of him without tourists looking over his shoulder.

View of the Southbank

Looking at the Royal Festival Hall on Saturday night from Hungerford Bridge. St Paul’s Cathedral is in the distance. I think the red building all lit up is the Queen Elizabeth Hall, but I could be wrong. London’s pretty at night, as long as you have a nice warm bed to go home to.

All about the hunny

Long-time readers may remember my post back in 2011, ‘Bringing home the hunny‘. This was the last time we had a significant honey harvest. Back then we found our honey wouldn’t spin out in Emma’s fancy electric centrifugal extractor. By this summer the memory of that had faded, so as we prepared to extract the honey in Emma’s dad’s kitchen we were optimistic that this year would be easier.

First, we decapped the honey with a decapping fork. Once the wax cappings are removed the honey can be spun out in the extractor. Steven Benbow has a nice description of an extractor as “a sort of giant salad spinner for honeycombs” in his book The Urban Beekeeper. Those white buckets we’re using belong to Emma’s dad, who is a butcher and runs his own wholesale company (now semi-retired and only working six days a week).

Wax uncapping

The darker honey in the foreground comes from my allotment hive in Northfields, west Ealing. The lighter honey on the right comes from Myrtle’s hive a few miles away in Perivale. Emma preferred Myrtle’s honey as she found it more delicate and floral, while I preferred the darker allotment honey as I felt it had more oomph to it.

Honey bucket

Decapped allotment honey – dark and rich. Time to extract.


So we put the first three decapped frames in the electric extractor, and left it to spin – and spin, and spin. Every few minutes we checked hopefully to see how much was coming out. But only a trickle gathered at the bottom. Eventually, after about twenty minutes of churning, smoke began coming from the engine. At that point we admitted defeat. Our bees have decided that if we’re going to take their honey, we’re going to have to work for it!

Time for Plan B(ee). We cut the honey away from the foundation and mashed it through colanders. This removed most of the wax, but it will need to be more finely filtered using muslin.

Honey sieving

It’s a slow, time-consuming process. Emma is completing it at her flat – thanks Emma!

Honey buckets

Sadly, it means we have lost the valuable wax honeycomb cells the bees worked hard to produce. If we could have extracted the honey by spinning it out in the extractor, the comb would have remained intact and would have given our bees a head start next year.

So why is our honey so thick and awkward?

Well, what is honey? Most of us know it’s concentrated nectar, reduced in water content by the bees to around 18% water, at which point they cap the honey cells with wax and it’s ready to be extracted. Once nectar has been evaporated down to 18% water, what’s left is mainly sugar in the form of fructose and glucose. But the proportions of sugar types can vary enormously, so that some honeys will contain more fructose than glucose and vice-versa. On average honey will contain 38-40% fructose, 31-35% glucose, 1-3% sucrose and 17-19% water, along with about 2% minerals, pollen, protein and amino acids (The Honey Bee Around & About by Celia F Davis, Bee Craft Ltd 2009).

The type of sugars contained in honey are one of the factors affecting its viscosity – its thickness. Ted Hooper in his classic Guide to Bees and Honey (2010) explains the varying viscosity of honey:

“Viscosity is the name given to the property of a fluid which causes it to flow slowly, or which resists an object falling through it. … The viscosity of honey is mainly controlled by its gravity, and the lower the water content… the greater will be the viscosity.”

He goes on to say:

“Viscosity is also increased by the amount of colloid material in the honey. The colloids, which are probably small pieces of solid substances and large molecules and include proteins [pollen?], have a similar electric charge and so repel each other. This repulsion again offers a resistance to movement and increases the viscosity, higher in dark than light honey. The extreme example of this is heather honey which has moved beyond a viscous fluid to become a gel.”

He also mentions that honeys with a greater than average proportion of glucose to fructose will granulate more quickly, as glucose is less soluble in water than fructose and crystallises more quickly – oilseed rape honey is an example of this. High viscosity honey also slows down the rate of crystallisation, as molecules of sugar migrate through the honey more slowly. I would say our honey has a high fructose to glucose ratio, as it shows no signs of granulating yet. The 2011 honey we got never did crystallise.

About heather honey, Ted says “Extracting is a problem because the honey is a jelly and will not spin out of combs in the normal way. The jelly is thixotropic, and thus if it is stirred it becomes a fluid and can be extract normally. A form of stirring can be done in the comb using an implement which looks like a scrubbing brush set with fine steel needles for bristles.”

If we had such an implement, perhaps that would have helped – but it sounds very messy! We would love to get our honey tested to find out where the bees have been. Although it’s thick like heather honey, it seems unlikely that the bees have found large quantities of heather in west London. Elder (and younger!) beekeepers, have you ever had such problems extracting?

EDIT: Emma has now written a post on how she’s been getting our stubborn honey out. She’s been hard at work stirring each cell individually with a key… How to extract honey too thick to spin out of a perfectly good extractor.

Wildflowers, Walpole Park

Wildflowers, Walpole Park

Starting a new year with the bees

It is time to start a new bee year. The last few months have been intense, involving weekly inspections and plenty of queen cell discovery, all leading up to the great honey harvest. Beekeepers at the apiary are asking “How much did you get?” – the most I’ve heard anyone say is an incredible five supers from one hive!

Now our focus must change to getting our hives ready for winter. I have a great determination to lose no colonies over the bitter months – ambitious I know, but I’ve not lost any bees in seven years and will fight as hard as I can to keep it that way. Apiguard, oxalic acid, dummy boards, insulation, fondant – whatever it takes.

Entrance with drone

Entrance reducers help the bees defend the entrance now that wasps are hanging around. The wasps look for any little gaps in the hive where they can get in and steal honey. They are nature’s cleaners too, finishing off any dying bees lying on the ground.

Wasp on Chamomile's hive

There are few drones left now. John Chapple was going around with a bottle – he collects them to sell to a Chinese restaurant. The restaurant wants 500 drones a week, but John is struggling to find that many at this time of the year. After visiting all the hive entrances, he told us he’d collected 109.

Young drone

Here’s one John missed. He’s light and fluffy looking, making me think he may be a young drone. All his magnificent muscles are probably for nothing, as there will be few virgins flying now.

Young drone 2

I tried something new this week and inspected all four hives without any smoke at all. I find keeping the smoker lit one of the most frustrating elements of beekeeping. I also worry about the effect of the smoke on the bees – after all, it makes my eyes sting, so how does it feel to tiny compound eyes?

Autumn equipment

The afternoon’s equipment.

Queen Pepper

Queen Pepper

The bees were absolutely fine without smoke. I was wearing thin latex gloves, so they could have stung me if they wanted to. There was a hairy moment when one started crawling up under my sleeve, but I got her out in time. Rather than smoking before putting the boxes back together I used a brush to clear the bees out of the way.


Apiguard time for the bees. I taped up the varroa boards under the floors so that the vapour circulates round the hives.


“What is Apiguard and how does it work?” – you may or may not be thinking. For anyone who doesn’t know, it’s a natural thymol (derived from thyme) based treatment that kills varroa mites. The bees remove the gel from the tray to clean the hive and remove the strong thymol smell. The Apiguard gel sticks to their body hairs and becomes distributed around the hive, killing an average of 93% of the mites under normal conditions.

Apiguard’s manufacturers, Vita, explain in their FAQs section the way that Apigard works on the mites: “As a protein denaturant it disrupts cell membranes and affects all cellular processes. It is a very general mode of action rather than being highly specific. It should be more difficult for the varroa mite to change all of its body functions to become resistant to thymol” (compared to Pryrethroid varroa treatments).

For Apiguard to be most effective, the external temperature should be above 15°C (60°F). At the moment the forecast is just above that for the next week, hovering between 17-19°C. In an ideal world we would have begun treatment earlier in August, but in an ideal world the bees would be in my massive back garden within view of my deckchair, pizza oven and mini-bar, rather than two bus rides away.

Dead bee with pollen

This little one broke my heart. I found her in one of the roofs – she seems to have got lost up there and not found her way back down. She had worked so hard collecting her huge bags of pollen yet never managed to unload them.

Brian inspecting his top-bar hive

Brian inspecting his top-bar hive

More top-bar action – John Chapple felt the bees at Brian’s entrance looked listless and that there wasn’t as much activity as he’d have expected for a sunny day. Brian went looking for brood but sadly two of his combs broke off while inspecting, so he called it a day before finding any.

Brian, John, Tom

Tom has seen some ivy out in flower along the canals already, so the seasons really are ahead this year. How are your autumn/winter preparations going?

We eat cookies and meet a new monarch

Apricot, pistachio & raisin cookies

Apricot, pistachio & raisin cookies

Yesterday I made these cookies before leaving for beekeeping. They’re apricot & pistachio cookies from a book called ‘TrEATs: Delicious food gifts to make at home‘ by April Carter. I bought the book from April after taking a cupcake decorating course she taught. I was pleased with these and have frozen some to take into work on Monday. Clare brought down some gorgeous chocolate brownies to the apiary and Alan had tea ready at 2pm on the dot, what a treat.

Rick inspecting

Rick inspecting

We had a new visitor to see the hives – Rick works for the British Transport Police in one of their control rooms, sending police out to incidents as they occur. His job has obviously prepared him well for unexpected events as he was not worried when a bee stung him on the first frame he’d ever inspected. He had been bare handed, so Emma provided him with some nice yellow Marigolds and he was able to inspect Pepper’s bees without any further pain.

Poor Rick also had to contend with his borrowed bee suit – every time he leaned forward to replace a frame the fabric top of the veil fell over his eyes so he couldn’t see anything!

Rick inspecting

Rick inspecting

We approached Myrtle’s old colony preparing ourselves for the worst – no eggs, no queen. Joy of joys, in the middle I found a brand new queen, who we think must be Myrtle’s daughter – her line continues! She has really got the hang of laying too, with one egg per cell right at the bottom. The top of her abdomen is golden brown and the end black and pointy. I like dark queens so this pleased me. Emma has a name in mind for her Majesty, but she hasn’t revealed it yet.

Emma inspecting

Between us we spotted three of our four queens and saw eggs in all four hives – for once, all are queen-right ! The only downside was that I was able to show Rick what bees with deformed wing virus look like. Emma is going to put Apiguard in the colonies tomorrow – I can’t wait to count the mites that land on the monitoring board.

Bees at entrance

Pepper’s bees at their entrance. We have put the entrance reducers in now as the nectar flow has ended and there are plenty of hungry wasps about.

Bumblebee on bramble

Bumblebee on bramble

After we’d finished inspecting I went home to fetch my bike and pedalled over to check Queen Stella’s bees at my allotment. As I wanted to take honey off I didn’t bring my bulky smoker and inspected without any smoke. Not a single bee stung me or tried to either. No need to bother using a clearer board with the gentle allotment bees, I just brushed the bees off three frames and bagged them up.

Whilst inspecting the brood frames I spotted a dastardly mite making her way across the capped brood, probably looking for an uncapped cell to climb in and reproduce inside. I picked it up with my fingers and squished it with my hive tool. Much as I’m against killing insects in general, I felt no remorse for this act I’m afraid. On the contrary – I had a big grin of satisfaction on my face.

Bumblebee on Japanese anemone

Bumblebee on Japanese anemone

My friendly allotment neighbour Patrick was busy digging his veggies. I gave him a honey frame and in return he gave me some beetroot, leeks and cabbage from his plot. There’s something fun about being given vegetables that were in the soil a moment ago. Later today I’m taking my honey frames to Emma’s dad’s house and we’re going to extract ourselves some of the golden stuff.

The honey month

August is the end of the beekeeping year. If the beekeeper has been lucky, it culminates in the sticky process of extracting golden honey. For the last few days I have been eating honey spooned over raspberries, strawberries and peaches. Soon it will be apple season and I’ll drizzle it over warm stewed apples. I must also remember to eat it spread over toast, all warm and gooey.

This year has been good to us. On Saturday Jonesie, Emma and I were all busy clearing our bees down from the supers, ready to take the honey off. One of Jonesie’s colonies must have had an inkling what was going on, as they chased us around the apiary. Below you can see Jonesie hiding from them. A visitor made the mistake of entering without any suit on and quickly ran away yelping!

Jonesie hiding from his bees

Jonesie hiding from his bees

The hives have black tape around them to stop any wasps or bees getting in. We put a clearer board underneath the supers so that the bees could go down but not back up, and then collected the frames on Sunday. We have taken two supers and will soon take another, so I am hopeful that we will actually have surplus honey to sell this year, as well as giving it to friends and family and leaving enough for the bees.

Now that the honey has been spirited away ready for extraction, we can begin varroa treatment using Apiguard. While inspecting I noticed a few bees with deformed wings and also black shiny bodies caused by Chronic bee paralysis virus (CBPV), which is associated with varroa. It is so sad to see the bees with tattered, useless wings, so it will feel good to nuke some mites.

Emma inspecting

Emma inspecting

By the way the National Honey Show website has a good recorded lecture, ‘Ghosts in the Hive – Varroa’s life cycle inside a Honey Bee Colony‘, in which scientist Ricarda Kather talks about her research on the mites. One of the topics she talks about is how varroa mimics the smell of their host bee whilst riding on its back, so that the mites pass undetected by bees. Within the space of three hours a mite can adjust its odour to every single bee it clings to, from nurse bees to foragers (bees smell different as they get older). They can do this even when dead, so the process must happen automatically without any effort being required by the mite.

Bottoms up

Bottoms up

Above you can see our bees doing a yoga class, displaying excellent balance and posture as they do the downward dog position. They are also revealing their Nasonov glands at the tip of their abdomen, releasing a pheromone to attract fellow colony members back home. They tend to do this when hive parts are moved – here the crown board had been propped up next to the hive.

Here are a few photos of the summer.

Dandelions by water

Dandelions by water.

Wildflower meadow

Daisies planted in a wildflower style meadow, Walpole Park in Ealing


Evening clouds over Elthorne Park

Tower of London poppies

And finally, this year Britain and other European countries are commemorating the hundred year anniversary of the start of the First World War, known at the time as the Great War. During my lunch break last week I walked down to the Tower of London Bloodswept Lands and Seas of Red art installation. The Tower of London website says:

“Created by ceramic artist Paul Cummins, with setting by stage designer Tom Piper, 888,246 ceramic poppies will progressively fill the Tower’s famous moat over the summer. Each poppy represents a British military fatality during the war.”

It is quite shocking to look down on the moat and realise that each of these thousands of poppies represents a person, someone who died in a place of misery due to the greed of others. The display has beauty in the form of the flowers but also a certain horror, as its flowing lines resemble a splattered river of blood. So much wasted life because of the selfish ambitions of a few. What have people learnt from this? A quick read of the news each morning suggests nothing much at all.