A Difficult Day

Aum Amriteshwaryai Namah

On Saturday morning, Nigama and I prepared ourselves as usual for the hive inspections. We donned our white bee suits and zipped our face protectors shut. We gathered all the needed tools and prepped the smoker (see video below). But both of us felt tense about what we might find in the weaker hive. Nigama had called the Ontario Beekeepers' Association during the week for advice, and what she heard from the specialist there was not hopeful.

First, we took a look at Hive 2, the stronger hive, and the good news is that it continues to thrive. A constant stream of foraging bees exit and enter, bringing with them pollen packed around their legs. This is a signal that they are raising young, as pollen is food for larvae. They are also starting to use the lower opening on the hive instead of just coming through the top one.

Bees of Hive 2 using the lower opening

We approached the weaker hive with trepidation. This was our first colony, started in 2009. Three weeks ago when we checked it, there was a decent-sized cluster of bees inside -- about as big as a basketball. They were sluggish compared to Hive 2, but Nigama and I figured they were simply waking up to spring a little more slowly. But last week, that bundle had shrunk to about the size of a grapefuit. When a cluster becomes too small, the bees can't generate enough heat inside the hive to stay alive.

As Nigama lifted the lid, my heart withered. No movement whatsoever within. Some of the bees actually appeared to be frozen in midstep. To me, it looked as though they could resume whatever they had been doing at any moment. They just simply stopped. I immediately thought of Amma who has said:

As long as there is enough strength in these hands to reach out to those who come to her, to place her hand on a crying person’s shoulder, Amma will continue to give darshan. To lovingly caress people, to console and wipe their tears until the end of this mortal frame—this is Amma’s wish.

Bees are beings completely dedicated to the seva of taking care of their hive, even to the last moment.

Hive 2 is on the left and Hive 1 is on the right

This may sound dramatic, but both Nigama and I immediately had the sense that we were staring into a coffin. Our first reaction was to say the Mahamrityunjaya Mantra along with Loka Samastha Sukhino Bhavantu.

The relationship we have developed with our bees is significant. We have built them a home, fed them, and given them medicine to protect them from parasites and disease. We have watched them grow and change. They, having stung us a few times, have surely observed us become more relaxed and confident around them. To have a hive die truly is a loss. To be honest, I'm still working through my feelings about it.

We know that winter survival rates have been dreadfully low over the past few years in Canada. And this last season in Ontario, people have lost anywhere from 30 to 60% of their hives. April was a really tough month for the bees with warm, sunny days and then sudden blasts of snow and wind. But still, one can't help but wonder what we could've done to save them.

So what happened? Our best guess is that the queen died some weeks ago. No queen means no eggs being laid, and that means no new generation of bees coming up to replace the old ones. Dampness and an illness known as nosema could have also played a part.

The base where Hive 1 stood

We took Hive 1 apart and loaded it into our blue, fibre glass gardening trolley. Eventually, we rolled it over to the compost heap near the garden in order to clean out the corpses and other debris. Nigama felt called to attend satsang so she could take part in the singing. At the same time, she didn't want to leave me alone with this work. I felt that on a day of sadness such as this one, it was important for her to be in satsang. I didn't mind doing the job by myself, so I told her to go ahead. It was very important to me to get the cleaning done quickly. Kind of like burying your loved one within 24 hours.

I am so lucky, though, in that Maala offered to help me, even though she isn't on the bee committee. As we stood in the setting sun, picking tiny bodies and wings out of wax and honey, I knew there was no way I could have done the work alone. It was simply too hard, both physically and emotionally. I had no idea it would be that hard.

By the end of the day, I was comforted by Nigama's ideas for next steps. There was a lot of honey and pollen left in the frames of the hive. Both the physical structure and that store of bee food can be used for a new colony. In fact, Hive 2 is so strong it looks like we may be able to split it in order to start the new hive. We'll just need to buy a new queen. Looking at the abandoned base structure from Hive 1, Nigama said, "To me that is a symbol of potential. It's like a marker to the hive that died, but also points to what is coming next."

Jai Ma!

Spring Awakening

Aum Amriteshwaryai Namah

Amrita bees getting a breath of fresh air after a long winter

Towards the end of April, our bees are starting to venture outside the hive to gather pollen and nectar. Nigama and I made a syrup out of hot water and sugar so that we could offer the bees a post-winter snack. We added a feeding stimulant called Honey-B-Healthy that is composed of lemon grass and spearmint essential oils. It helps boost the bees' health in times when nectar sources are low (like spring).

When we got out to the hive we noticed that one hive was extraordinarily active. A cloud of workers buzzed about the entrance and many of them were re-entering the hive with large packets of pollen gathered on their legs. This is a sign that they are feeding young larvae. The video below documents this well, and even includes some bold appearances by bees who might be trying to catch a break in front of the camera. :)

The other hive was cause for concern, as we did not see the same robust activity. In fact, there did not seem to be any bees flying around the entrance. When we opened the hive, there was just a grapefruit-sized cluster of bees inside. We felt they were too fragile to start removing frames and checking for new larvae or the presence of a queen. We did notice that there is a lot of honey, so the problem is not lack of food. We will continue to think about and research next steps. In the meantime, your prayers for the health of this hive are much appreciated.

It was an emotional event. Speaking for myself, in caring for these bees, I have felt a deep bond form. When I come to the ashram and I feel sad, a visit out to the hives to connect with the energy of the bees transforms me. Seeing one of our hives in a weakened state got me thinking about the bigger picture of the health of bees. All over the world, they are dying.

Nigama offering the bees a post-winter snack

In Canada, it is becoming more difficult each winter for bees to make it through. The average survival rate used to be about 5 to 15%. In the winter of 2006-7, there was a dramatic increase when about 36% of bee colonies across the country died. Since then, it has hovered at about that same number. In the US and Europe, they are seeing an even more disturbing phenomenon called colony collapse disorder. Beekeepers open their hives and find that the bees are simply and suddenly gone.

Why are our bees dying? Researchers have been looking at two things in particular: infestations by mites who have become resistant to pesticides and climate change -- especially longer, colder winters.

The cooperation between humans and bees goes back 10,000 years when humans began to cultivate bees for honey. It was a relationship where the bees were respected and thanked for the their gifts. Bees are also responsible for the growth of much of our food thanks to pollination. Sources say from 30 to 40% of our crops are pollinated by bees. Without them, flowers would die, fruits would disappear and, of course, there would be no honey. When you think about it, bees would do much better without us than we would do without them.

Instead of working with nature in mutual partnerships, humans have been seeking to control nature. The bees seem to be telling us something. They've had enough and they withdraw. This has been made clear to me in a new documentary about bees called Queen of the Sun. I was shaken to the core when I heard these words by Gunther Hauk, a biodynamic beekeeper in the United States. He says this at the beginning:

Colony collapse disorder is the bill we are getting for all we have done to the bees. It's just a name that was given to a phenomenon that a hive is found empty. Food is there. Honey is there. But the bees are gone. The first thing we look for is who is the cause for that. Who is responsible? We are not going to solve the problem by us killing a virus or a bacteria or a fungi. Because the problem is an inner one. Personally I am grateful for a crisis. The crisis will give us the possibility to learn something if we are willing. If the heart opens up enough to tell the mind something.

Loka Samastha Sukhino Bhavantu. Loka Samastha Sukhino Bhavantu. Loka Samastha Sukhino Bhavantu.

The Bee-ginning

Aum Amriteshwaryai Namah

When Amma speaks about the environment and the importance of restoring Nature's harmony, she often mentions the state of honeybees. She said this in Paris in 2007 during a speech entitled "Compassion: The Only Way to Peace":

Usually, bees have no problem travelling as far as three kilometres from their hives when foraging for nectar. But these days, after collecting nectar, bees cannot remember their way back home and get lost. Unable to reach their hives, they die. In a way, it is because of bees that we have food. Bees play a vital role in the preservation of Nature and society. They pollinate the plants that provide us with fruits and grains .... All living beings need our help as well in order to survive. They are also our responsibility.

When we established the Amma Canada Centre on a farm outside Toronto in 2008, Amma's instructions included growing organic food, planting trees, and beekeeping. And so it was in the spring of 2009, we excitedly released our first nucleus of honeybees into a newly constructed wooden hive out by the maples.

Rajeswari holds a frame while Nigama dusts the bees with icing sugar to treat for the varroa mite

For me, working with bees up close has been nothing short of transformative. In the past, I hadn't given bees much thought other than to appreciate their fondness for flowers and enjoy the exquisite taste of their honey. I had no idea how they functioned as a community.

Each hive member has specific work. Each one executes precise tasks without question -- be it pollen gathering, hive guarding, larvae feeding, cleaning duties or reproducing. I went from viewing the hive as a cluster of individuals to seeing it as one organism. The spiritual symbolism, quite simply, blew me away.

The first season was about learning and experimentation. From the beginning, we practised organic methods to care for our bees and treat against parasites and other pests. Our bees responded well and they expanded quickly. By late fall, they were disease free and had stored more than 140 pounds of honey!

The success continued. Our hive not only survived its first winter, but had to be split into two in the spring. As we begin season three, things are looking equally optimistic. This time both hives have made it through another tentacle-chilling Ontario winter and one of them may have to be split yet again.

We're going to keep you updated here on the progress of our bees throughout the year and other things the beekeeping committee is up to. We're currently working on some lip balm to share with you that is made with wax from our own hives.

We also would like to post about the wider world of bees and beekeeping. This includes information about the global phenomenon known as colony collapse disorder and what we can learn from the bees about returning to a life in balance with nature.

Jai Ma!