A cruel blow

The dog park bee tree is not faring well.
The photo on the left is from June 2, the one on the right from Sept. 23. I noticed a couple of weeks earlier that yet another trunk had blown down, but I kept forgetting to take my camera and veil with me so I could get some closeups.

I had my camera on Friday, but no veil, and the light was not great, but so it goes.
The hive is still quite active, despite being miserably exposed. Lots of traffic meant I couldn't get very close.

I feel very sorry for these bees, who probably won't survive the winter. I think about how I could help them. A piece of waterproof canvas? A three-sided box? It's probably not feasible to try to remove them – the queen would just hide in a crevice, and bees without a queen have no hope at all.
I will keep checking on them as the year advances and the temperatures drop.

Meanwhile, my own bees are working from sunrise until after sunset to prepare for winter in their cozy box.
The Sergeant planted marigolds underneath it and added a mini-sprinkler. The marigolds flourished, as well as a couple of squash vines that meandered over from the vegetable garden.
There's one good-sized pumpkin under there, and a buttercup squash. We've started seeing some powdery mildew on the squash leaves, but there's not much to be done about that this late in the year.
You can see that the bees have nearly filled the box with comb. It looks to me like they're putting their honey closer to the entrance, where it will be added insulation.

Street-spam signs also make for good insulating material on the window covering.

I suppose I am a bad beekeeper for not inspecting the hive more thoroughly by opening the box and lifting out the frames. But since I have no intention of harvesting anything until their second year, there doesn't seem to be much of a point. I will cross that bridge next spring.

Dog park bee tree

Out at the dog park there's a solitary bee tree. I had an idle hope earlier this year that I could get a swarm from it; those would be some great, hardy genetics.
The Sergeant and I were at the park a couple of days ago and I immediately noticed something amiss. The bees' trunk had fallen!
For comparison, here's a photo I took in May last year. You can see that the trunk that was behind Jackson is now on the ground.
Yet the bees' nest must be even lower in the tree, as there was a great cloud of them still hovering around the entrance. I wasn't willing to get closer without a veil; if I were them, I'd be a little freaked out by the recent disturbance. I did see some going in and out through the damaged pith of the tree; I imagine all the recent rains have played havoc with climate control in the hive.
I also wondered where they might be finding any nectar, as little is blooming out there at the park right now. And the wind can blow pretty well, making it hard to fly far.
Later in our walk we did find one flowering shrub – golden currant or Ribes aureum – next to the pond.
And sure enough, some busy bees.

Where's Kitt?

Well, life happens and you get all distracted and, next thing you know, a lot of time has gone by.

I think about blogging, but then I feel like I need to do something substantive to make up for all the not-blogging, and so I just post something fast on Facebook instead. But I limit my Facebook friends to people I know in person, which means everyone else loses out.

I am going to try to do more here. I do enjoy blogging; I just need to get back in shape, and maybe not be so ambitious with every post.

Lucy and Jackson are doing fine, as you can see in the photo above. They're sitting in front of a bee tree I found at the dog park.

Speaking of: My hive survived the winter and I plan to do a harvest soon. Swarm season also has begun. I missed a call yesterday, but today I just ran across this swarm while walking the dogs. Funny how that keeps happening to me.
I went home and got my gear and put those girls in the box. I knew someone would want them. Sure enough, there was a guy at To Bee Or Not To Bee buying his first hive, so Vicki sent him over and the bees went home with him.
Here they are on the doorstep of the box after I put the lid on. They've got their little butts in the air, fanning out the scent that says, "Hey, everyone! The queen's in here!" (Click to the photo to see it larger.)

I'm here, too!