Breathing Room

The hum of the honey processing room. Clack-hiss, whoosh goes the pricker. The extractor puts a spin on the ambience, a see-saw of whirring noises. Trolleys, boxes, buckets moved around amid the roar of the centrifuge. Radio. Banter. Fans and fly-swats. The heat. The heavy, pungent smell of honey. 

All a memory. Now my footsteps echo through the honey room.

Time for a breather.

The steam cleaner has been out for a blast, and 101 tasks involving sorting and cleaning, sing out from stacks of boxes, calling for rainy days.

Our hives are home and have had a preliminary check to make sure none were starving and that each had a laying queen. They are in tip-top form. Knackered ones were few and far between, and the majority of the sites were heavy, with good honey stores around the brood.

Aimz and her brothers pause for a family pic with Dad. Finally some ‘breathing room’ in the season.

And brood there is, some wall to wall. Healthy, uniform cells, and circular patterns of eggs and young grubs, these will be our winter bees. Our biggest threat this year will be starvation, as the mites are nowhere to be seen.

Oxalic acid sublimation helps stay on top of the varroa mites. Once bitten, twice shy.

Oxalic acid has been our saving grace. I will remember the destruction wreaked by varroa for the rest of my life, but we survived and came out stronger for it. Mite control timing is everything – on the ball, all of the time.                                 

Our autumn splits are looking great with their recently hatched queens. A handful of colonies were unsuccessful, but the rest are healthy, strong, three-quarter boxes of brood and bees. We are getting a jump on spring with around 120 of our own overwintered queens.

A pre-emptive play, as economic uncertainty puts pressure on us all to become more self-sustainable. Conservation of fuel and resources is the big issue we are facing at this time, so considerate planning of beekeeping missions is a top priority to keep running costs down.

Unsettled times call for resilience and a bit of faith. As beekeepers, we all possess strength and fortitude in liberal amounts. Some days we need to dig deep, but all the better to anchor ourselves and those around us.

At least we are winding down and readying for winter. Entrance reducers are on all hives to protect from wasps and cold draughts. Our queen rearing units have had their first taste of sugar, hopefully packing it away while bee numbers are still bulging. Ribbonwood is flowering, and broom and Spanish heath are just beginning, maintaining a trickle of stores into the colonies.

Hard at work on the koromiko, the honey bee and beekeeper’s friend late in the season. 

Home calls. Drums of honey are doing their thing in the warm room. The wax melter is still chugging on, churning out alternate liquid gold from scraped out honey frames. Domestic jobs start getting checked off, rehanging gates, painting doors and spreading fertilizer to fill in a day.

And of course, school holidays are upon us again. For conservations sake, why take the kids to the movies when you can bring them beekeeping?

Keep cool out there fellow beeks. Enjoy, and encourage each other.  Take the breathing room.

Aimz

Aimz is a second-generation commercial beekeeper in the Bay of Plenty who took up the hive-tool fulltime at the end of the 2024 honey season. Formerly a stay-at-home mum to four kids, she has now found her footing in the family business.