Showing posts with label rose-breasted grosbeaks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rose-breasted grosbeaks. Show all posts

Thursday, 30 May 2019

A Swarm Of Bees In May

A swarm of bees in May
Is worth a load of hay;
A swarm of bees in June
Is worth a silver spoon;
A swarm of bees in July
Is not worth a fly!
(17th century bee-keeper's saying)

This morning I noticed masses of swirling, very plump honey bees in my bee yard. They filled the air and formed dense clusters on the hive stand and on the ground. They were quite plump because they had filled their crops with honey in preparation for a journey to parts unknown. I've heard that once a colony decides to leave, not much will alter it's plan. Anyhow, they had not yet decamped so I had to try something. I added an empty box of frames to the bottom of the swarming hive and moved it a few feet to the right. With a dust pan and bee brush, I gently swept the larger clusters onto the landing board at the new location. Typical of a swarm, they were completely docile -- perhaps owing to full tummies. Almost immediately dozens of bees started to fan nasonov gland pheromone to beckon their airborne sisters back into the box. An hour later, the swarm had moved into the slightly newer location. Whether or not they will stay home is questionable. Time will tell.

In the early part of May, I had split my one surviving colony into two. I moved one half to the East hive stand and gave it the overwintered queen. The remaining hive stayed at the old location on the north stand -- queenless but with plenty of brood, nurse bees and young eggs to make a new queen. It appears they have now made a new queen and were preparing to fly off with her, but leaving behind backup queen cells and a small workforce to carry on. In a day or two, I'll inspect both hives and make sure they have lots of wiggle room.

A swarm in progress at the North hive stand.


An empty box added to the hive seems to have curtailed the swarm.


The East hive stand houses the overwintered queen with a portion of her workers.


The tray leaning against the left hive is acting as a bee ladder.



On a happier note, about a dozen Baltimore Orioles are back here for their breeding season and demanding handouts of grape jam. By the end of each day, their feeder is empty but still being licked over by these beautiful songbirds. Each morning as I put out a fresh supply of their sugary treat, they give me a little song of appreciation. Or so I imagine.

A dazzling male Baltimore Oriole concentrates on his treat.


A female prefers to grip the hanger while feeding.


Both raspberry and grape jams were on offer here.


Rose-Breasted Grosbeaks also enjoy the jelly tray.


This green frog is welcome to all the mosquito larvae it can catch.


Tuesday, 8 September 2015

Hangers On

For years, I've been keeping records on migration dates of one of my favourite birds, the Rose-Breasted Grosbeak. Among the last to arrive and the first to leave, they should have departed weeks ago for their winter vacations in the West Indies, Mexico or South America. Yet, they are still here! And so is the very hot and humid summer weather! My calendar tells me it's September and this morning the school bus picked up my neighbour's children for their first day back to school. But still, those grosbeaks are hanging around my feeders and the berries of my mountain ash tree. Not that I'm complaining, I love their company, but it does leave me a little puzzled. Is it simply too hot for them to leave my shady yard and wing southward? Anyway, I'm glad to have these hangers-on still hanging around and hope they stay a bit longer.


A female rose-breasted grosbeak feasting on mountain ash berries.


A male (left) Rose-breasted grosbeak and the female (right) using my feeders.


This summer I've enjoyed a larger than usual hummingbird population.


From a branch over my hives, this eastern phoebe flies down to nab my honey bees.


A chipmunk foraging for seeds under my new feeder.


A locust beetle adding a dash of style to a goldenrod flower.


An ambush bug (phymata) hangs on to the tongue of an unfortunate fly.