stores it commands premium prices, rivaling imported caviar. Those in the know use royal jelly as a dietary supplement and fertility stimulant. It contains an abundance of nutrients, including essential minerals, B-complex vitamins, proteins, amino acids, collagen, and essential fatty acids, just to name a few!
The workers also perform another kind of fanning, but it isn’t related to climate control. It has more to do with communication. The bees have a scent gland located at the end of their abdomen called the Nasonov gland. You’ll see worker bees at the entrance with their abdomens arched and the moist pink membrane of this gland exposed (see Figure 2-7). They fan their wings to release this pleasant, sweet odor into the air. You can actually smell it sometimes as you approach the hive. The pheromone is highly attractive and stimulating to other bees and serves as an orientation message to returning foragers, saying: “Come hither, this is your hive and where you belong.”
Beekeepers can purchase synthetic queen-bee pheromone and use this chemical to lure swarms of bees into a trap. The captured swarm then can be used to populate a new hive.
Courtesy of Bee Culture Magazine
FIGURE 2-7: This worker bee fans her wings while exposing her Nasonov gland to release a sweet orientation scent. This helps direct other members of the colony back to the hive.
Becoming architects and master builders (days 12 to 35)
Worker bees that are about 12 days old are mature enough to begin producing beeswax. These white flakes of wax are secreted from wax glands on the underside of the worker bee’s abdomen. They help with the building of new wax comb and in the capping of ripened honey and brood cells containing developing pupae.
Some new beekeepers are alarmed when they first see these wax flakes on the bee. They wrongly think these white chips are an indication of a disease or mite problem. While working, numbers of the wax flakes will fall to the bottom. Nothing to be alarmed about.
Guarding the home (days 18 to 21)
The last task of a house bee before she ventures out is that of guarding the hive. At this stage of maturity, her sting glands have developed to contain an authoritative amount of venom. You can easily spot the guard bees at the hive’s entrance. They are poised and alert, checking each bee that returns to the hive for a familiar scent. Only family members are allowed to pass. Strange bees, wasps, hornets, and other creatures intent on robbing the hive’s vast stores of honey are bravely driven off.
Bees from other hives are occasionally allowed in when they bribe the guards with nectar. These bees simply steal a little honey or pollen and then leave.
Field bees
When the worker bee is a few weeks old, she ventures outside the hive to perform her last and perhaps most important job — to collect the pollen and nectar that will sustain the colony. With her life half over, she joins the ranks of field bees until she reaches the end of her life.
It’s not unusual to see field bees taking their first orientation flights. The bees face the hive and dart up, down, and all around the entrance. They’re imprinting the look and location of their home before beginning to circle the hive and progressively widening those circles, learning landmarks that ultimately will guide them back home. At this point, worker bees are foraging for pollen (see Figure 2-8), nectar, water, and propolis (resin collected from trees).
Courtesy of USDA-ARS, Stephen Ausmus
FIGURE 2-8: This bee’s pollen baskets are filled. She can visit ten flowers every minute and may visit more than 600 flowers before returning to the hive.
Foraging bees visit 5 million flowers to produce a single pint of honey. They forage a 2- to 3-mile radius from the hive in search of food (even more if necessary for water), and propolis. That’s the equivalent of several thousand acres! So don’t think for a moment that you need to provide everything they need on your property. They’re ready and willing to travel.
Foraging is the toughest time for the worker bee. It’s difficult and dangerous work, and it takes its toll. They can get chilled as dusk approaches and die before they can return to the hive. Sometimes they become a tasty meal for a bird or other insect. You can spot the old girls returning to the hive. They’ve grown darker in color, and their wings are torn and tattered. This is how the worker bee’s life draws to a close working diligently right until the end.
The woeful drone
This brings us to the drone, the male bee in the colony. Drones make up a relatively small percentage of the hive’s total population. At the peak of the season, their numbers may be only in the hundreds. You rarely find more than a thousand.
New beekeepers often mistake a drone for the queen, because he is larger and stouter than a worker bee. But his shape is in fact more like a barrel (the queen’s shape is thinner, more delicate, and tapered). The drone’s eyes are huge and seem to cover his entire head. He doesn’t forage for food from flowers — he has no pollen baskets. He doesn’t help with the building of comb — he has no wax-producing glands. Nor can he help defend the hive — he has no stinger. He is not the queen or a worker — merely the drone.
The drone gets a bad rap in many bee books. Described as lazy, glutinous, and incapable of caring for himself, you might even begin wondering what he’s good for.
He mates! Procreation is the drone’s primary purpose in life. Despite their high maintenance (they must be fed and cared for by the worker bees), drones are tolerated and allowed to remain in the hive because they are needed to mate with a new virgin queen from another colony (when the old queen from that other colony dies or needs to be superseded). Mating occurs outside of the hive in mid-flight, 200 to 300 feet in the air. This location is known as the “Drone Congregation Area,” and it can be a mile or more away from the hive. The drone’s big eyes come in handy for spotting virgin queens who are taking their nuptial flights.
The few drones that do get a chance to mate are in for a sobering surprise. They die after mating! That’s because their sex organ fits something like a key into a lock so they can effectively discharge their sperm into the queen.The queen will mate with several drones during her nuptial flight. After mating with the queen, the drone’s most personal apparatus and a significant part of its internal anatomy is torn away, and it falls to its death, a fact that prompts empathetic groans from the men in my lectures and some unsympathetic cheers from a few women.
Once the weather gets cooler and the mating season comes to a close, the workers do not tolerate having drones around. After all, those fellows have big appetites and would consume a tremendous amount of food during the perilous winter months. So in cooler climates at the end of the nectar-producing season, the worker bees systematically expel the drones from the hive. Drones are literally tossed out the door. For those beekeepers who live
