|Just graduated from Clemson|
I rented a 17' U-Haul, packed up quite literally my entire house, and moved it all down to Charleston. But what about the beehive, you ask? Well... they're all dead. After a rather severe winter, where the tipi became an igloo on several occasions, my feral bees' instinct to swarm was insatiable. After removing dozens of swarm cells, I, inadvertently, had left my hive queenless. She had absconded from the hive, in an attempt to spread her offspring to the hives that did not make it through the cold.
The worker bees who had not left with her kept on working, collecting honey. With the queen out of the way, they filled every last square inch of comb with honey. The hive was jam packed with the golden nectar, but this was a problem. The hive was honeylocked. Even when I brought them a new queen, she had no where to lay her eggs, and the population was dropping. Soon enough, the pesky hive beetles and hive moths overtook the hive. Victims of their own success and my ignorance, the hive had fallen.
|Rotten, Infested Honeycomb|
|More Maggots than Bees|
|Compost Bin Full of Lost Honey Comb|
|Moving is so hard.|
|When I First Moved In|
|And I Just Moved Out|