Drones are males bees in a honey bee colony. They're noticeably larger than the female worker bees. Their single purpose in life is to mate with the queen. When the queen is finished with a drone, a union that lasts only seconds in midair, the drone dies after his male genitalia is ripped from his body. 

Drones don't take on any role within the hive while they're waiting around to make it with the queen. They don't help gather pollen. They don't feed the babies. They don't guard the entrance, or clean up or help in making honey. They take up valuable space and resources and usually toward autumn, they will be unceremoniously kicked out of the hive, leaving them hungry, cold and soon to die. 

Today, I watched this beautiful drone weakly walking back and forth near the entrance and trying to go inside only to be pushed back out. I followed him with my lens back and forth as some of the worker bees kept an eye on him. 

At different angles in the sun, he shined with gold stripes. In other shots, the gold was absent and he looked more black.  His eyes looked nearly three times the size of his sister's and his wide body was at least a  third larger.

The drone is still trying to get inside the hive....

He fell off the edge of the hive and I picked him up. He was getting very weak by then.

It wasn't long before he just stopped all movement and took his last breath.

Two bees were exploring him with their tongues. 
The bee in front tongued him for a minute or so. I 
have no idea why she was doing it. 

For a very short while, some of the worker bees 
bumped into him and others climbed over him on their way to the entrance. 

It wasn't long before some bees took an interest in doing something about his body.

This bee began to pull and tug at him.

The movement by the other bees rolled the drone onto his back.

And then he was pushed to his side again.

The bee on the left began taking charge and really muscled 
him around to get him toward the edge of the hive.

More tugging and pulling ....

She has to get him over this small ledge and then
 it's all downhill from there, but it's not easy.

The worker bee takes flight as she grips hold of
 the drone and begins to lift him just a bit off the box.

She goes down with him to the weeds below the hive.

This is where he was put to rest until the ants find him.

It's the cycle of life, but it was sad to see a life end.

"Bees and flowers are as vital a part of the intricate web of life as we ourselves are. The question we must then ask is: Do we love life enough to save it? If we do, we need to transform the way we use the earth's finite endowment of land, water, air and wildlife."

                                               ~ Dr. Stephen Buchman, Letters From The Hive

Letters From The Hive is one of my favorite books. In it, Dr. Buchmann offers as a solution something very similar to what I've been preaching, and the concept of which is very much ingrained in the essence of this website. It's the idea of "getting back to a state of wonder and amazement we all experienced as children when first discovering plants and animals."  On my Home page for this website I quote one of my other favorite authors, Rachel Carson, from her book called The Sense of Wonder, which goes to the heart of what we should all hope for:

      “If I had influence with the good fairy, who is supposed to preside over the christening of all              children, I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life, as an unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantment of later years, the sterile preoccupation with things artificial, and the alienation from the sources of our strength.”   -- Rachel Carson, The Sense of Wonder

I try to capture with a lens the wonder in my heart. From a distance, we miss so much incredible detail in the world. Macro photography is a tool I use to magnify the world around me. Some might look at images I post and ask, "So what?" And the only wonder they have is wondering why I photo blog about bees. My answer is simple. "It's interesting to me." And that is always enough to keep my attention and keep me coming back for more.

I take note of tiny details like what is the same and what is different about these awesome little creatures. Some bees are more orange and others more beige. Some have longer abdomens. Some are quite golden. A common thread throughout is how commune-ish they are and how devoted they are to their colony. They don't fight with one another. They work together in such an incredibly cohesive, harmonious way. I think I would make a miserable honey bee because I'm not a joiner and not a big group kind of being.  If I were a bee I would be a solitary bee.               

 "Solitary bees live on their own, not in colonies with a 
queen and workers like honey bees and bumble bees. 
It could be said that each solitary bee is her own queen. 

But I find the hive mentality of honey bees utterly fascinating. The peacefulness of thousands of life forms working toward a common goal leaves me gobsmacked. 

The next time you're outdoors, stop to look more closely at the world around you. Try to see something new in something you've seen a thousand times. Or just listen and hear what you've not heard in something you hear all the time. Our life is made up of our perceptions. Change your perception and you'll feel your life change. Then again, who I am I to suggest you change? Maybe all is good just the way it is. 

I was just watching them, listening to their buzz and photographing the comings and goings. I focused on watching for the various pollen colors. I always like to see what colors are popular on a given day. The bees were so beautiful,  I just had to see more so I opened the hive and only took out one frame. It was full of bees on one side,  and half as many on the other side. 

The buzzy sound - a bit harried - could still be heard, but the bees weren't flying frantically around me. I was holding the frame with my left hand and keeping it up and down just like it sits in the box, so I wouldn't drip any honey out of the comb. I tried taking photos with my right hand, but I wasn't getting the lighting right and kept trying to maneuver the frame in a better direction, but it's hard with just one hand. Nothing I was doing was working. I decided to just put the frame back and let the hive calm down a bit. 

As I went to pick up the frame with both hands, I turned in such a way as to cause my camera to swing from the strap around my neck and conk the side of the hive box. I winced; I knew that must have been loud on the inside. I could hear some bees being startled around me. 

Later in the day, I decided to google bee sting images to see if finding a white thing on my hand was an indication of the stinger being left behind. It turned out it was! The stinger does get left behind, as well as some of the bee's abdomen.  I've read bee stings are simply a regular thing for beekeepers and now I'm part of that club. I guess today I was officially initiated. The extra cool thing I read in my image search was that bee venom is supposed to be good for arthritis, and I have that in several knuckles. Maybe I'll see some medicinal effect come out of this!

The bee on my finger below stayed on me for a long time perfectly content to groom and lick me. This was taken toward evening when I went out to sit beneath the buzz. She did not want to be set back down and she had no interest in flying off.  I don't know why she was licking unless it had to do with dampening my skin to clean her feet or something. It left me curious.

Pollen is still coming in. Today I saw mostly orange, a little yellow, and one white.

I saw my first drone today! It's pictured below on the right. Drones are males and larger than the females. Their only job is to mate with the queen. The don't help out with the hive and they only put a drag on the resources. In the fall when the worker bees (all female) are preparing for winter, the drones will get kicked out of the hive.

I sat with my bees in the early morning today and didn't bring my camera at first. I just sat with my hand at the entrance and closed my eyes off and on to focus on the beautiful buzzing and the small sensations. I had up to four bees at one time on my finger and others landing on my palm. Sometimes I would inch toward the entrance and see who wanted to climb aboard. The feel of their tiny feet brushing my skin as they landed and took off is like nothing else I've ever felt. I have such love and adoration for them. They must feel that vibration coming from me. It's certainly my hope.  

The more comfortable they felt landing on me, the more I began to feel like they were seeing me as a welcome part of their environment, like a flower, or a branch; that I was a natural part of their world. My thought is that they will recognize my hands as I'm pulling apart their home for inspections, and they will consider me part of the process of things. It's just a theory. But so far, it's working out that way. I've been inside the hive three times without a bee suit and without a smoker. I'll continue to always try to read them. Things may change down the road. For now, it's very soothing and peaceful.

Below is a good capture of the double set of wings that honey bees have.

I love all the honey glistening in their combs waiting to be topped off.

A wonderful benefit of macro photography is capturing the anatomy like the bee on the right where the neck joint is clearly seen. Below this photo is a close up of a wing.

I love the texture of the wing seen below.

So much beauty to behold. And the smell of hive fresh honey in the making is tantalizing. As I write this, my hands are saturated in the yummy aroma from working with the frames during a 2nd inspection. Since I was taking time to photograph, I only inspected half the frames on my first inspection because I didn't want to leave the hive exposed too long . I don't know how long inspections can safely take. I could watch for hours, but I know the hive loses heat and the disruption of pulling apart their home must cause some distress. I've read that inspecting too often can make them feel unsafe enough to cause them to swarm. That means they leave me to seek a new home. I would be devastated if my bees ever felt like doing that.  On my second exploration, I focused on the frames I missed before, and also tried to really see what individual bees were doing. 

 I didn't use the smoker or a bee suit again. I listen to the sound coming from the hive after I take off the lid. There's a calmness to the tone. I talk to them while I'm moving apart the frames along the edges. I'd already spent time with them earlier in the day and they are at ease with me clicking my camera and having my lens inches from their faces. They even hover over me waiting to land if I'm blocking their landing strip.

I am mesmerized by them. They each have duties and they all seem so focused and so at peace with themselves and their colony.  

I've had my honey bees exactly two weeks today. I visit them nearly every day. I speak to them like I talk to my dog or cat. I figure all forms of communication play a part in getting to know each other. I want the sound of my voice to become familiar to them and for them to associate it with peace and kindness.  When you think about how capable bees are - truly, little magicians -- learning to recognize my voice (and scent as I've mentioned before) is a small talent of which I'm sure they possess. 

The connection I have with bees is intrinsically rich; rich to me. Some might call it spiritual. I don't try labeling it. It simply exists; I know it and I believe the bees know it. I don't know why it's meaningful to me. It just is.

 I'll have my hand up at the hive entrance where I can feel the wind beneath their tiny wings as the bees bring in pollen and nectar. Some stop to rest on me and adjust their pollen or simply to catch their breath. The feeling of the whir as they touch down on me is soothing in the way petting a cat or dog is. There's something precious about the mutual trust that builds between us. It has to be experienced; words fall short of capturing the essence in the same way they do when you try describing a sunset. You just have to be there to fully understand.  

Near the hive entrance, the first thing I noticed was a bee pupa having been discovered by some tiny ants. How did it get there? The bees coming and going were unconcerned about this scene. How did this happen? Did the bees just clear out the dead and this was part of the trash? What caused her to die? I have so many questions.

The bees were feasting on their own
 honey. What a beautiful sight!

For years, research has focused on how various animals, and bees are included here, detect and categorize the diverse and numerous chemical molecules in the environment. The sense of smell is a critical component in decoding the complex makeup of life and plays a significant role in determining how well a life form survives and reproduces. 

The role of the olfactory system helps shape the complexities into "pieces of relevant information that will allow the animal to make decisions and engage in adapted behaviors. Major tasks of the olfactory system are for instance the identification of food sources, the detection of possible dangers (such as fire or predators), the recognition of potential mates as well as allowing social interactions." [source]

If the sense of smell helps bees survive on the planet knowing things like when a foreign bee is trying to enter the hive, or where an abundant source of food exists, it's no big stretch to believe bees can smell other things like human anxiety, fear, loathing, and even love.  

Science Correspondent, Richard Alleyne, claims researchers have discovered that human fear really does have an odor. He says that chemical signals are emitted by the body in sweat when a person is scared and can be picked up by others and can trigger fear in their brains, essentially concluding that the smell of fear in humans can be contagious. [to read more go to source] 

The olfactory system is a fascinating topic all its own, but for the purposes of my bee blog, suffice to say it plays a big part in how humans and bees communicate, and it's worth respecting.  Since I have zero anxiety around my bees, I believe my presence doesn't worry them. I'm sure an errant bee may freak out one day and choose a suicide defense by stinging me, but that'll be just an off day. I don't worry about it. 

Today, I chose to do my first beehive inspection. I only have reading sources to turn to for guidance or I can email a group of student beekeepers and email questions to experts, but no one on the ground to accompany me and advise on site.  Reading a book or an email is very different than going over to a honey bee hive and taking the lid off and then removing the frames while hundreds of bees are busy at work. 

My hive has ten frames per box and I have two boxes at this stage. The lowest box to the ground is called the brood box and the second one on top of that is called the honey super or just super. All of this terminology is new to me. I've heard it before, I've read it before, but it just didn't sink in until I took the lid off and began to examine things.  Pictured above is what I found directly beneath the top lid to the inner cover. Below is a partial view of the top of "frames" beneath the inner cover, before I pulled them out.

I'm supposed to have a special pry tool made for beekeeping to gently pry apart the frames, but I don't own any beekeeping tools yet, so I just grabbed a dinner knife. It worked perfectly fine. Just prior to taking out the frames, I decided I better google and see if it was highly recommended to smoke the hive. I was just going to open it without a smoker. After reading from my two books and on the Internet, I found it was strongly advised to use smoke, and even though I sometimes foolishly try to reinvent the wheel and do things my way, I thought I probably should try a smoker. I called around town to see if anyone sells them. The feed store and the hardware stores said no and no one knew of any place that did. It's a small town and beekeeping is not a big thing around here.

 I have an old smoker I bought years ago because I liked the 'antique' feel of it and never once intended to use it. The bellows are worn and I figured it wouldn't work right. But it was all I had and I was champing at the bit to see inside my hive. I grabbed some paper and weeds and a piece of wood I found in the yard on my way to the hive and took a small book of matches with me; I had three matches left.  I got the paper to light a tiny bit and fizzle out leaving some smoke. I quickly put the smoke (about as much as you might have when you blow out a large match or a small candle.) It sifted toward the entrance and dissipated quickly along with my patience. I truly believed my bees would cooperate and would not send out a guard to attack me. I knew some oddity could happen -- there could be a bee who was wired wrong and could over react - but it would be a fluke. I decided to just dive in and find out. I had zero anxiety. I just wanted to see my bees.

With one hand holding my camera, and my other hand holding onto the frame full of bees, I began taking pictures. The bees were quite happily preoccupied and seemed unfazed by me or by having their home pulled apart. Supposedly, if I accidentally kill a bee while moving the frames around, which isn't hard to do, it sends pheromones into the air and signals trouble to the other bees, which could mean becoming a target since I caused the death. I needed to be very careful, and holding the frame with one hand while photographing the other is going to be a talent I want to hone. 

I don't wear a bee suit. I spent a year around wild bees and have become completely comfortable around them. I listen, observe and go by feel around them. It seems instinctual. One day, I may regret going suitless, but it simply feels so natural, so right, and so easy to just be with my bees without any armor. It's not an ego thing. Had I just gotten into beekeeping without ever having spent time with bees, I'm sure I'd be dressing up in all the gear. But I came to beekeeping in an around about way; a way that helped me understand their nature. I've written about it before, so I won't repeat it here. (Feel free to inquire.)

What I'm supposed to see upon my first inspection includes eggs, larvae, sealed brood, pollen, honey and sealed honey. One article I read said I was to do my first inspection 9 days from the day I received my bees. The number 9 had to do with some sort of cycle. I can't find the article again, so I don't know exactly why it was the chosen number. I didn't know there was a schedule I was to follow until I read that. I was at day 12. I'm not much of a follower though. I would rather feel my way along and learn as I go while supplementing with knowledge from others and then finding a balance of my own.