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olorielOne of the popular German names for the common daffodil is Osterglocke, i.e. "Easter bell". Supposedly, they flower around Easter in our climate, hence the name - but in most years, they only flower a bit after Easter, at least in the region where I live.
This year, they've already begun to bloom.
It isn't even Lent yet.
(Granted, this year's Lent and Easter are pretty damn late. But still, the fact remains that our typical just-after-Easter flower is flowering in February.)
In that light, nobody will be surprised about the snowdrops, crocuses and celandines, which have joined the hazels, birches and willows in feeding my bees, who started going out yesterday. It was the typical first-sunny-days-of-spring spectacle. For those who are new to the party, bees keep in their pee and crap all winter, so as soon as it's warm enough for them to fly, they zoom out of their box to crap all over the countryside. This is called their Reinigungsflug, i.e. "hygiene flight", though I don't know what it's properly called in English.
Most of them will afterwards sit in small groups on the sun-warmed wood of their box or its dais (it's really a transportable pallet, but dais sounds more dignified) and watch those poor sods among them who have to work the foraging shift. (Contrary to popular belief, bees don't actually work 24/7.) Well, I have no clue whether they actually watch the busy workers or whether they're just chillin'. But they could if they wanted to. And if bees were human, they'd surely sit in those nice comfy sunny spots, watching their unfortunate sisters carry home their loads. Probably making snide comments, too...
The cranes and wild geese are returning - you can see and hear them pass up above.
Felix and I did some weeding (that is, I did the weeding and he emptied his little toy bucket into the big weed bucket). Unfortunately, it was raining today, but it's supposed to be dry (if a little colder, but still close to 10°C) tomorrow, so maybe we can do some more gardening then.
It's still a very weird spring, because on the one hand it certainly looks and feels like April in the daytime, but on the other hand the sun still disappears behind our uphill neighbours' house around 3 pm, and then it suddenly gets dark(ish) and cold and you remember that it's still a week to go until March.
Yesterday evening, Jörg tried to save a bird that had apparently got stuck in a cover panel above the kitchen. (We found out because Darcy-cat was standing on the kitchen windowsill, trying to reach the panel.) I say "tried" because the silly bird (not understanding that Jörg was trying to help, of course) withdrew in the hindmost corner where none could reach it, and then stopped moving. Jörg left the panel open, so with some luck, the bird escaped later on. If it didn't, well, we did give it a chance. >_>
Ah, Spring.
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Date: 2014-02-25 07:05 pm (UTC)I'm no expert on bees but found this on a website "I get very excited to have one of these days in November, December, January, or February because every one of them shortens the time the bees have to wait between cleansing flights. “Cleansing flight” is the rather Victorian term given to a bee’s excursion from the hive to dispose of feces that has built up over a period of days or weeks."
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Date: 2014-02-26 12:20 pm (UTC)"Cleansing flight" would make perfect sense. I mean, it's basically the same word!
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Date: 2014-02-26 06:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-02-26 12:19 pm (UTC)Es schwärmt aber die Alte - und zwar normalerweise, bevor eine der Neuen überhaupt geschlüpft ist. Eine neue Königin fliegt bloß raus, um für den Rest ihres Lebens Spermien zu sammeln. Oder wenn sie selbst 'ne Alte geworden ist!
*klugscheißermodus aus*
Aber ja, Bienen mobben sich sowieso. Eine frisch geschlüpfte Jungkönigin killt die gesamte Konkurrenz (also alle anderen Jungköniginnnen, ob geschlüpft oder nicht), wenn die Arbeiterinnen sie lassen (meistens versuchen die Arbeiterinnen, ein oder zwei "Reserveköniginnen" übrig zu behalten, bis die "Neue" erfolgreich vom Hochzeitsflug zurück ist - danach darf sie dann fröhlich morden). Die Arbeiterinnen schlachten auch die Drohnen bzw. schmeißen sie raus (männliche Bienen sind so doof, dass sie sich nicht einmal selbstständig ernähren können, also war's das dann), wenn sie nicht mehr gebraucht werden. Und ganz wüst wird's wohl, wenn ein Volk buckelbrütig wird, also wenn es keine Königin mehr gibt. Dann fehlen die Pheromone, die die Eierstöcke der Arbeiterinnen am Funktionieren hindern, d.h. ein paar Arbeiterinnen werden dann fruchtbar und legen Eier (aus denen aber mangels Befruchtung nur Drohnen werden können, d.h. das Volk stirbt, aber die Gene können im Idealfall noch weitergegeben werden). Die müssen wohl untereinander extremen Zickenterror betreiben und auch die Arbeiterinnen ziemlich terrorisieren.
Das wirft irgendwie ein echt mieses Licht auf den Zusammenhang zwischen Charakter und Eierstöcken, aber sicher kann man das nicht einfach so von der Biene auf den Menschen übertragen. ^^
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Date: 2014-02-26 12:55 pm (UTC)Ansonsten:
Du darfst gerne klugscheißen - ich finde Bienen extrem spannend. So ein Volk ist schon eine Sache für sich. Wenn ich die Zeit und den Platz hätte würde ich ganz sicher auch Bienen halten.
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Date: 2014-02-27 10:21 am (UTC)