In the many lifetimes before this one, our ancestors could recall the names of all native plants, highlighting those which could benefit the colony in some way or another. As time passed, the names handed down through the generations remained the same, however unusual species began to appear without any forewarning. They silently took up residence in spaces which would once have laid bare, or had been inhabited by our native plants. These plants arrived with no name, unbeknownst to our extensive collective knowledge and understanding of our environment.
We have adapted to these changes, which have been challenging and unpredictable. Mistakes were made, but we have learned from them, and given these unknown plants names. Giving them a place and purpose within our habitat. This knowledge will continue to be passed down through future generations in the hope that we don’t have to experience the same difficulties.
Take for instance a species which has caused us much hardship, the Rhododendron. They produce voluptuous purple bell-shaped flowers, and large evergreen waxy leaves. Though beautiful to look at, they grow quickly, covering all ground in their path. Suffocating many unfortunate plants that are delicate and less hardy. Their rapid growth means native plants don’t have time to evolve survival mechanisms for such changes and will be forced out of their dwellings. The Rhododendrons thick canopy of deeply green leaves casts heavy shadows below, restricting the light that can pass and what can grow within the sun starved, laborious soil.
This has impacted the life of many plants and flowers we rely on for sources of food and makes foraging more difficult. However, though we have come across plants such as the Rhododendron, there have been a few which have acted in our favour: the rudbeckia, persicaria or echinacea. They flower in late Autumn, and produce an excellent resource for pollen and nectar into the late Autumn months. This acts as our backup if we were to be less successful with our resources. The other option which we use as a last resort is more dangerous. Luckily, we have been fortunate enough this year not to steep to robbery, unlike others less fortunate than our colony.
In October and into November before the weather turns too cold for workers to leave their hives, there is an untimely panic where robbing of the weakest hives takes place. It is a painful and sorrowful sight to see such destruction and fear caused by the possibility of starvation. Robbers are known to dart up and down the sides of the hive entrance, where fights break out with guard bees who are defending their colonies’ nectar and pollen stores. For the weakest of colonies in this most vulnerable state, there is very little hope for their survival into the Spring. If you are to witness such a sight, you will notice small shards of beeswax underneath the hive where robbers have successfully stolen honey stores.
We feel for those less fortunate than us, and understand the difficult and complex position they find themselves in. In their tarsi*, we would be undergoing the same rigmarole in the name of survival. However, we must defend our hive and winter provisions, and cannot aid others outside of our colony. They must fend for themselves and accept the fate of those who cannot withstand such hardships.
*Tarsi- Bees do not have feet, but they do have a tarsal claw that helps the bee grip surfaces, taste and communicate.
The Far Orchard 