The first thing I learned in bee school is that more people are interested in keeping bees than I would have thought. In the 2 classes held at RIC there are over 100 people enrolled. The second thing I learned was that beekeepers are as generous and enthusiastic as gardeners. They want anyone and everyone who is interested in keeping bees to succeed. To that end, the RI Beekeepers Association runs several bee school classes every year, holds monthly meetings, and encourages every newbie (newbee?) to ask lots of questions and shadow a mentor. And it’s a big enough network that we students have been reassured that there would always be a more experienced beekeeper nearby willing to come over to help inspect a hive and answer questions. With such a safety net, it would be very hard to fail.

Which is a good thing because there’s a lot to it. A lot of bees for one thing – 50,000+ workers and drones (depending on the time of year), plus one queen, make up a healthy colony. The queen can lay over 1000 eggs per day that grow into new workers (and drones) to replace old — individuals (besides the queen) only live about 40 days altogether.

The colony’s goal is to reproduce and survive the winter and it’s a fascinating community effort. The workers have specific roles that change over the course of their lifespan, going from nurse bee to house bee to guard. After about 3 weeks in the hive, they go out as the foragers we gardeners know and love. Interestingly, the workers, not the queen, make all the decisions about what the foragers should bring back to the hive (nectar, pollen, water), whether the queen is getting old and needs replacing, and when it’s time for the colony itself to reproduce (swarm). Drones only job is to fly around in great comet-shaped congregations and mate with the queen. They mooch food from the workers and are kicked out of the hive before winter.

And there’s a lot involved in keeping a colony healthy. So much that it has made my head spin and I haven’t even learned yet about all of the problems, diseases, and infestations to which they’re so susceptible…

In last week’s class I learned that there are no ordinances against keeping bees in Rhode Island. But keepers in the urbs and suburbs should be discreet (hide hives in the back yard and paint them to blend in) and be super sensitive to neighbors’ worries. (Giving away honey is said to help assuage fears.)  Apiaries should face south or southeast for winter sun, and be out of the way of heavy human, animal, and car traffic. And we’ve got to get it right. Once the bees are in residence, the hive can only be moved less than 3′. Or more than 3 miles. And bees will need a nearby water source to keep them out of your neighbor’s pool.

Blithewold’s bees are situated beautifully, facing south in full winter sun. It was warm enough today that I thought I might see some activity (in the winter, bees leave the hive on sunny days for “bathroom breaks”) but I pressed my ear up to the hive body and thought I could hear them hum. I can’t wait to learn more and maybe shadow our volunteer beekeeper and have a peak inside…

I don’t really expect much to be blooming outside in the middle of January but I also don’t expect it to be pushing 60°. A January thaw would seem more justified if the weeks leading to it had been frigid rather than merely gray, raw, and windy. But any time the air is soft and the bay is like a mirror, you won’t catch me complaining. You’ll catch me outside. The bees took advantage of yesterday’s warmth to look for flowers, so I figured I might as well look for some too. I didn’t find much though and what I did find was not covered in a swarm. …I wonder where the bees went and hope to learn more about their moves in bee school…

(click on pictures for a bigger view or mouse over for the caption.) 

While the bees did whatever they were out doing, I followed the sun around the Display Garden and cut back some of the completely fallen down stalks that were no longer contributing to the view. It was work that could have waited for the same kind of day in February or March, but didn’t have to. I left some stems as protection over the crown of certain plants like Salvia guaranitica and anise hyssop and just tidied them up a bit instead (cut them back by half or so). The betony (Stachys officinalis ‘Hummelo’) stalks broke off at the ground with barely any tugging as did all the fallen butterfly weed (Asclepias tuberosa) so clearly, it was time for them to be compost. I also decided to whack back most of our Pennisetum orientale ‘Karley Rose’. Is it just me or is that grass a beast with few redeeming qualities? It definitely didn’t hold my winter interest and flopped around a little too much over the summer at least where we had it (smack in the middle of the pollinator bed path. I freely admit that was my bad idea. Maybe I’ll like it better somewhere else. Then again, maybe not. Live and learn.)

Have you had the chance to get outside during a balmy thaw yet? What did you do? – Anything blooming? For a world-wide look at January blooms, head over to May Dreams Gardens for Garden Bloggers Bloom Day!

I’ve gotten a couple of questions in the last week or two about what we do in the gardens to manage pests and diseases. Although a lot of you already know the answer, I don’t seem to mind repeating it for anyone who doesn’t. The short answer is: Nothing! We do not use any kind of chemical pesticides or fungicides for the sake of our own health as well as that of our volunteers, visitors, members, camp kids, pollinators, beneficial insects, birds and other wildlife. (That said, I believe Dan has sprayed some sort of bunny deterring pepper concoction in the Vegetable Garden. Not that it has worked. Also, the trees, shrubs, and lawns are managed differently.)

The long answer is: In the gardens, we try to keep plants healthy and stress-free by providing them with fertile soil (easy because the soil here is lovely) and adequate water. We amend the soil with compost, both our own and the biosolid and yardwaste mix (top grade and certified pathogen-free) made by Bristol’s composting facility, and we mulch with shredded leaves and buckwheat hulls, both of which add organic matter and aerate the soil as they break down.

We welcome insects, and the birds that eat them. We do minimal clean-up of seedheads and stalks in the fall to leave some habitat and cover for birds and insects over the winter. We have even started construction on an insect apartment house. (They’re all the rage in Europe.) It’s made of white oak, faces south for winter warmth, and we will continue to fill it with bits and bobs that that will provide nesting sites for solitary bees, lacewings, spiders, and any other critters that might find it cozy. The section with the slots is intended as a butterfly shelter but I read recently that they don’t really use those. Looks cool though.

It’s the visitors to our Rose Garden who have the hardest time believing that we don’t spray fungicides, etc. Honestly, we don’t need to. I know I’ve said this a million times already but here it is again: along with choosing disease-resistant roses, and giving them great soil and adequate water (about an inch per week), we also fertilize them 3 times over the season (in April as they break, in May/June just before peak, and in August for their last flush) using a slow release organic granular fertilizer (Espoma Bulb-Tone); we rake out the spotty leaves twice weekly; and we hand-pick Japanese beetles. But the real reason the roses look healthy is because there are other beautifully blooming plants in that garden that draw everyone’s attention away from a few yellow or lacy leaves.

In the gardens, we live and let live. Don’t you?

Yesterday was the kind of day that made me feel very sorry for anyone stuck indoors. High 60s, sunny blue sky, birds singing, bees buzzing: Exactly the kind of short-sleeves day we all desperately crave when it’s hot as blazes or when it’s bone-chilling cold out. Exactly the kind of day best spent soaking up the warmth of the sun, sucking up the scent of the fragrant honeysuckle (Lonicera fragrantissima), and getting the garden cut back, and roses pruned and transplanted. Which is exactly how Gail, Tricia — our new garden intern, and I spent our day.

Your employer should thank me for suggesting that the very next time a day like that is forecast for a work day (tomorrow by the looks of it), you call in well and get your body outside. Disregard the calendar, quit worrying too much about the pendulum swinging, and cut back the buddleia, lespedeza and caryopteris. Go for it. It’s time and it will do you good to get out and enjoy it.

So what will you do on the next blue day? I’ll feel better if you tell me you’ll at least be able to open the windows, and will try to invent excuses, like a friend of mine did yesterday, to take some mini-walks around the neighborhood…

I also think it would be good for you — and good for your garden — to plan on taking another day off on Thursday, April 5 to attend a day of lectures on Planting for the Future by Doug Tallamy, author of Bringing Nature Home, and Warren Leach, brilliant landscape designer and co-owner of Tranquil Lake Nursery. I have heard both of them speak several times and they always keep me at the edge of my seat: Doug with his fervent call to arm our gardens with certain native plants in order to recreate a working ecosystem; and Warren with inspirational design ideas that show that environmentally friendly gardens can still be highly ornamental and sublimely lovely. Please come if you possibly can.

Fall is dragging its feet getting into winter and although some people and plants I know are ready for it to be cold, it couldn’t be a sweeter treat for us gardeners. We’ve been braced for bitter winds and flurries ever since the first frost (which came with bitter winds and flurries) but have been able to leave our coats on hooks and mittens in pockets for weeks now. These last few days especially have been weirdly warm but so perfect for taking in the last of the fall color seemingly stuck in a holding pattern, and catching up on outside work. Gail and I spent most of today picking more veg for the food pantry (lettuce, carrots, spinach, kale and more!) and spent yesterday in the Display Garden tidying up fallen seed heads. We still can’t quite do the final cutback: some of the plants, like nicotiana and a few salvias, haven’t quit blooming yet; others like yarrow and calendula have started up all over again.

The bees are still out foraging and there are great clots of milkweed bugs on the crispy milkweed seedpods (can they still eat the dead tissue or are they just … busy?) and they’re even on nicotiana leaves. Every year we have to look these guys up to see if they’re good, bad or indifferent. They do eat milkweed pods – and maybe nicotiana leaves? – and because of that they themselves are as safe as Monarchs from predation. (Any bird silly enough to eat one will get the throw-ups.) But we only remember spotting them at the end of the season and they don’t seem to do a lot of damage. So we left them and their plants be. The bugs pictured are adults; as instars they are smaller, shiny bright orange-red and wingless. (As always, click the pic to enlarge.)

Despite the bonus of unfrozen days, some creatures don’t seem to be finding what they need to survive winter (if it ever gets here.) Have you noticed an absence of acorns this year? We know that oaks put out extra acorns now and again as a way of insuring that some of them survive to become trees, and Gail and I remember last year as a big acorn year. This year the trees rested apparently and the squirrels are frantic. Good thing we planted tulips… If anyone has a good squirrel pilfer prevention technique to share, please do!

Are you enjoying a few extra days of mild weather too – or do you just think it’s too weird and time for a change?