5 Easy Ways to Help Bees this Summer

It is an unavoidable reality. Our bees are in trouble. As we become increasingly aware of the issues facing our pollinators and the detrimental impact their decline will have on our local and global food supply, we’re all looking for ways to help. Here are five EASY ways to help local bee populations that take very little time, effort and money.

5. Put out a water dishIMG_0652

Bees are thirsty! They seek out shallow water sources to replenish from, so consider putting out a saucer of fresh water in your garden or on your patio. If you keep it full, in a few days time you will find that you have regular visitors. Bees are notoriously bad swimmers, though, so if you’re using something larger like a bowl or have a bird bath, consider putting a rock or some pebbles for the bees to perch on to drink safely.

4. Plant flowers

Bees are starving; one of the best things you can do to immediately benefit local pollinators is plant food in the form of annual or perennial flowers, as well as flowering trees and shrubs.IMG_0551 Plant in clumps, choosing  flowers of a variety of colors and shapes that bloom at different times throughout the year. Choose flowers native to your area. Native plants naturally occur in the region in which they evolved and subsequently, have additional advantages. They are adapted to local soils and climate conditions, typically require less water and are more often resistant to harmful insects and disease. Additionally, wildlife evolves with plants; therefore, local pollinators have a strong preference for native flowering plants.

Just be sure you do not purchase flowers that have been sprayed with neonics!

PhotoGrid_1432300694885It can be a devastating realization for someone that they may have inadvertently killed or weakened the bees they were trying to benefit by purchasing pollinator-attracting plants from a large retailer or major nursery. Home Depot and Lowe’s have recently made this easier on consumers by voluntarily labeling their plants. Albeit it is in tiny font, tucked away at the base of the plant on a separate, hard to spot, easy to dislodge secondary label, but it’s there. Usually. Unfortunately, the majority of their plants are still currently treated but, in response to customer demand, both major retailers have announced plans to phase out neonic treated plants by 2019. So, in the mean time, be vigilant.

3. Reduce or eliminate use of pesticides, herbicides and fertilizers at your home

Science has proven time and time and time and time again these are harmful to bees. Specifically, neonicotinoids (neonics) and glyphosate, found in the ever popular RoundUp. Not only are these killing bees, they are harmful to you and your children and are contaminating our soil and water supply. Please stop using them. Seek alternative methods. Pull the weeds by hand, or BONUS: if they flower, just leave them. Bee food.

2. Buy LocalIMG_1413a

Local fruits and veggies, local meat and, of course, local honey! Get to know your farmer/grower/beekeeper. Ask them questions; go visit their property with your children. In addition to supporting pollinators, buying local reduces emissions, leaving you cleaner air and water, helps strengthen your local economy, and bolster your community’s knowledge, health and ecological longevity.

1. Encourage and educate others

We can talk about wide spread regulation of pesticides and grand conservation efforts all we want, and trust me that is being done at length, but that takes time. The quickest way to make a positive impact is to start now in your own community.Talk to your coworkers and the individuals at your place of employment responsible for lawn care; talk to your neighbors and friends about reducing pesticide use and planting pollinator friendly landscaping. Take time to understand how our actions such as urbanization and suburban landscape, the loss of biodiversity through monocrop agricultural practices and pesticide use collectively impact bee populations and how our choices as individuals and communities play a roll in that.



Purple Honey in the Sandhills of North Carolina

The illustrious Purple Honey has made a show-stopping appearance in our hives.

We could not have been more shocked to find it there upon a small impromptu harvest yesterday and are still reeling from our discovery. Although Central North Carolina is the best known region for this rare occurrence, we had previously spoken to beekeepers that had been in the area over 30 years and had never seen purple honey in their hives; so we never really expected to find it in ours.

Interestingly, of the two side-by-side hives in our apiary, we only pulled purple honey from one of them. We had always assumed that the bees from both hives were likely foraging in the same areas. As only one hive produced purple honey, this is apparently not the case. Even more interestingly, it is not clear where this purple honey comes from.


There are three prominent theories, but it is still scientifically unknown. Let that just sink in for a moment. In 2014 we do not know how this rare but well-known occurrence happens. That is completely and utterly amazing.

One theory is that the bees eat the fruit of blueberries, blackberries or elderberries, causing the purple color. To be clear, we both believe this to be the least likely cause of purple honey. First, bees occasionally, but very rarely consume the juice of fruit. It would be unlike that enough of them would do so to deeply tint several frames of honey. Secondly, those types of berries are few and far between in our hives’ foraging range and have wrapped up peek production well before the colored honey is found in the frame. Additionally, honey is produce from nectar. Although fruit juice is a similarly sugar-rich substance, it is not a direct substitute. Nectar is thicker than fruit juice, more similar to the viscosity of honey, whereas fruit juice is more similar to the viscosity of water. We also already know that the color of honey changes dependent on the source of nectar. For example, Orange Blossom Honey is very light and golden, where as Avocado Blossom Honey is dark with a greenish-brown hew. And finally, these berries are found throughout every zone in the US and most of the rest of the world. It would not make sense then that Purple Honey is predominantly found in only one region of North Carolina; albeit only rarely at that.

Another theory is that it comes from the nectar of a specific plant that grows in the forested areas of Central North Carolina. The argument is that it is a plant less-favored by bees and only foraged on dry years or when food is less plentiful. To that point, it has not been an unusually dry year in our region. I have heard mixed information as to what plant that may be, but Kudzu seems to be the most predominantly sited in the beekeeping community. This is certainly a possibility as Kudzu grows rampant throughout the Southern States, but I feel inclined to draw attention again to the wide growth range of Kudzu throughout the South, and the relatively small region that purple honey is found in.

The final theory behind purple honey revolves around varying mineral content of the soil that nourish bee-frequented crops. The Sandhills of Central North Carolina are a grower’s nightmare, full of hard-packed, acidic clay and sand. Could that be it? I really don’t know. And neither do the experts. The result of North Carolina State University’s professor, John Ambrose’s study concluded that nothing was as it seemed. “It’s one of those things that people want to believe their eyes,” Ambrose says. “The best explanation is usually the simplest, but in this case, it’s not.”



So although we can not explain our stunningly deep purple honey, we can tell you we’re lucky enough to have it for this fleeting moment. We can also tell you it’s delicious.

Landscaping a Small Urban Apiary

Update Spring 2015: Two years later our little urban apiary is as beautiful as ever! It is everyone’s favorite place to hang out and is the focal point of our yard. The ducks make their nests and hatch their young among the lavender, the chickens relax under the shade of the tree and the bees bustle about. We often sit on the retaining wall stones watching bees come and go, breathing in the sweet scent of rosemary and lavender. It is just as idyllic and well serving as I had hoped.


The intent was to landscape a beautiful apiary for our bees so that they would have a functional and welcoming home. What we ended up with lies somewhere between apiary, herb garden and aroma therapy garden. I love when planting is multipurpose – edible, perennial, aesthetically pleasing and good at attracting pollinators – and this apiary is just that. It’s a lovely space for bee and beekeeper alike.


Consider planting in your apiary during early morning on a cool, drizzly spring or fall day. I know these aren’t the gardener’s preferred working conditions, but neither are they the bees’, which means you are far less likely to cause a disturbance. Bees will not venture out of the hive for foraging activities until the outer temperature has risen into the mid 50’s. There may be the occasional security guard that comes out to supervise your activity, but in general, they will remain out of your way and you out of theirs.

A cherry tree, which is full of heavy blooms in the early spring to feed hungry, over-wintered bees, casts dappled shade to offer some reprieve from the Southern summer heat. Honey Bees are very particular about the temperature inside the hive, working year round to maintain 94-97°F. When you live in a climate with extreme heat, it may be necessary to help them out by creating some shade – not too much though, they’ll be wanting that sun come the cold winter months. Think of something native to your area that has sparse branching and will lose all of its foliage in the winter months.



Lavender is a clear choice for apiary landscaping as it’s one of bees’ favorites. We included various varieties of lavender in different sizes, foliage color and flower color. There are hundreds of lavender cultivars to choose from; we recommend choosing native varieties that will flourish in your growing zone as they will require very little care once established. When planting for pollinators, consider planting in clumps or clusters, rather than a single plant. Not only do they find this more attractive, it makes it more worth their effort.



Rosemary is another bee (and chef) favorite. The blue blooms and highly fragrant foliage are calming for both bee and keeper. Here, rosemary acts as a slight barrier between the entrance of each hive and the boisterous activity of the backyard. Honey Bees take very serious the job of guarding the hive entrance. By planting a visual and physical barrier you’re helping them keep things around the entrance calm. This barrier should be at least a foot away, giving the bees plenty of space to come and go free of congestion.


Heather acts an extremely low maintenance ground cover that produces droves of purple, pink or white flowers from very early spring through late fall. Meanwhile, fast growing Pampas grass will add movement and height as it matures. Remember to leave plenty of space to work in and around the hives. You don’t want to feel claustrophobic when the plants mature to full-size, so plan accordingly.


A nicely designed apiary allows for easy foraging (like super healthy, beautiful fast-food for bees) and creates a space for all inhabitants of your urban property to share and enjoy.

Which means, while these happy ladies are busy working away…


…we can relax with lavender-mint vodka tonic while enjoying the warm evening, aromatic garden, and gentle humming of the hive. Bliss.


Becoming the Beekeeper

“[S]he gave me a lesson in what she called ‘bee yard etiquette’. She reminded me that the world was really one bee yard, and the same rules work fine in both places. Don’t be afraid, as no life-loving bee wants to sting you. Still, don’t be an idiot; wear long sleeves and pants. Don’t swat. Don’t even think about swatting. If you feel angry, whistle. Anger agitates while whistling melts a bee’s temper. Act like you know what you’re doing, even if you don’t. Above all, send the bees love. Every little thing wants to be loved.”

~ Sue Monk Kidd, The Secret Life of Bees

Blissful Bee hard at work

Blissful Bee hard at work

As I’m sure you’ve realized at this point in your research, all of the bloggers and veteran beekeepers out there like to tell the well-intended, unsuspecting, inexperienced potential beekeeper that “it’s so easy.”

How about telling us the truth? It is terrifying. And you’re going to make some mistakes. Mostly out of sheer fear.  But, you will learn from those mistakes. You will learn to listen to what the bees are telling you, and it will become easier. Maybe even effortless. With time. And with lots and lots of gut-wrenching, adrenalin-pumping practice.

It’s not that I think these bee veterans are ill-intended; it’s just that you forget. You forget how hard it is to learn something completely new and foreign. You forget that at one point, it was utterly counter-intuitive to stick your hands into a dark dungeon of thousands of bees. And you forget that you too felt overwhelmed and made mistakes.

Let me share with you my initiation into backyard beekeeping, so that you can learn from my mistakes and not feel so bad about your own.

I was installing two boxes of bees into two new hives. Aside from being terrified of the thousands of mini lions that, I’m positive, could smell my fear, the first instillation went rather well. I sprayed, I tapped, I put the queen in her hive, poured the box of 5,000 workers into the frames and put a lid on it. I stood back in admiration of myself. Was it even possible I could be this awesome? But oh, had the self-admiration come too soon.

The second installation that immediately followed was something that nightmares are made of. If I had ever spent time imagining my greatest bee-related fears, this would have been exactly that.

I removed the can of sugar water plugging the box’s entrance and set it aside, when I reached for the string that is attached to the queen box for easy removal, I saw that it was broken. Gloves were too bulky and the opening too small. I would have to reach my unprotected hand into the cramped hallow of 5,000 workers to retrieve her. I could feel the terror burring inside my chest as beads of sweat began to form on my temple; I plunged my hand into the chamber. To my own amazement, I accomplished this task without harming myself or anyone else.

Box of bees: Insert hand here

Box of bees: Insert hand here

I had only sloppily tucked in my veil… I mean, the cute old guy on Youtube wasn’t even wearing one, so what was the big deal anyway? Just as I set the second queen in her respective hive, I felt it flutter against my neck. A bee. A bee was in my veil. This was it, I was going to get stung. Oh god, two. There were two. Fear overcame me. I knew what I was supposed to do, but all I could hear was what every nerve in my body was screaming at me. I panicked. My hand fluttered up to my face on top of the veil; the bees felt the pressure against their bodies and reacted by stinging me – one in the neck and one on the cheek. Standing over the hive with the freshly deposited queen, I ripped off my veil in terror.

The complication I had not considered up until this point was that now, unlike the first installation, there were bees in the air – lots of them – and my long hair, drawn up in a messy bun, smelled like the sweetness of my honey conditioner. In an instant, there were bees all around me. They were crawling on my head, becoming entangled in my hair that was securing them firmly to my scalp. Causing them to panic. Causing them to sting. Don’t you know I want to love you?! I thought, willing them to love me back; to understand I was trying to help them. But apparently, they knew no such thing. They knew only the panic I was causing them.

I ran. Fight or flight? Flight it was. I had made it 20 or so bounds before it sunk in that there was just no running from what I had gotten myself into as bees, panic stricken, tangled in my hair, stung my head. I glanced over and realized that in the chaos I had not put the lid back on the box of workers, still sitting on the ground at the hive’s side when I fled. I had to go back; I had to finish or it would just keep getting worse.

I walked back determined to finish, the bees tangled in my hair continuing to sting my head. This took an immense amount of control because, let’s face it, all I wanted to do was run away screaming, flailing my hands in the air until help suddenly appeared out of nowhere to save me. But there was no help. There was only me, the bees and my mistakes that had brought us all here.

Determination and pranayama, the art of breathing control central to the practice of yoga – a skill that has saved me a number of times in this life – are the only things that got me through the rest of this nightmare.

Deep inhale. Controlled, deliberate exhale. I will do this. I could feel each little movement; each struggling wing flutter, step and sting on my scalp as I emptied the second box into their new home. I carefully lidded the hive, and slowly walked away. I made it to the patio, just outside of the back door, gently let my hair out of its bun and began lovingly, delicately, painstakingly removing the bees that had not stung me, so that they would have a chance to live. This took around 10 minutes, which obviously seemed like millennia, during which time I sustained a few more stings to the scalp. Then it hit. I was alone, having made it 25 years on this earth without ever being stung, and had no idea if I was allergic or not. To top things off, I had no Benadryl on hand and there were still stingers and carcasses in my hair. I made a quick, sobbing call to the husband and got in the shower to assess my damages. Then calmed, I could levy that only my imagination was swelling, not my throat. A sense of relief and joy washed over me. I had done it!

I quickly scurried off to Facebook to post of my joys when a slow panic washed over me. The cork. I FORGOT THE CORK! They would never be able to get to the queen. They would all die. It was all for nothing. Maybe, I thought wistfully, maybe they can eat through the cork and it will all be fine. Then, glancing at my wine rack, I realized that as much as I loved wine, as much as I longed for and adored wine, I would never eat through the cork to get it. I had to go back.

The workers surrounding the queen box will eat through a candy-cork to free her and begin colonizing... if you remember to remove the cork.

The workers surrounding the queen box will eat through a candy-cork to free her and begin colonizing… if you remember to remove the external cork first.

I often think now that it was a good thing I had to go back into the hives; like getting right back on that proverbial horse so that the fear could not take over and ruin this relationship permanently. With my protective gear properly secured – learned that lesson, alright – I went back out and one at a time dissembled each hive, extracting the now bee-covered frames so that I could retrieve the queen box. With thousands of confused bees swirling around me, I uncorked her and poked a small hole in the candy-cork to give workers a little head start, since I had delayed them so much already. I slowly; meticulously reassembled each hive and walked back to the house unscathed. This was the first step in our understanding of one another. Nothing between us would ever again be as hard as this day.

So my advice to you, dear soul doing something good for this planet, is to preserver. It will get better. You will get better. And some day, you too will forget how hard, how scary and how foreign it once was. But in the mean time, don’t feel bad if it isn’t exactly “easy.”

Reader’s Digest version of lessons-learned:

  • I am only awesome in my mind.
  • Tuck your stuff in. Really well. You are not that old dude in the YouTube video that doesn’t need gloves or a veil. Not yet, anyway.
  • Don’t remove the veil near the hive just because a bee is in it. One sting is better than 20. Trust me – you don’t need to learn this lesson first-hand.
  • Remove the cork.
  • Breath. Fear and panic make you do stupid things.