In mid-winter, the bees in my hive are hopefully buzzing away in a tight cluster, keeping each other warm.

It’s best not to take the lid off when it’s cold out, so I don’t actually know what’s going on in that box. While I could get lost in a thought experiment of the Schrodinger’s cat variety, instead I don’t think too much about it and order bees to be delivered in April, just in case.

Last year’s winter was long and very cold. My bees did not make it through, so the colony that is currently in the hive is the one I installed this past summer. Their shipment was delayed due to weather issues down South and they didn’t arrive until June, giving the bees a late start in building up their stores.

When keeping bees, the single most humane thing we can do is to limit the amount of honey we steal. Bees work hard to make every drop, and they do so for reasons that have nothing to do with humans having a sweet tooth. They eat their supply of honey all winter long, using the energy to keep their bodies moving. With no central heating, movement is the only way to keep the temperature up.

Many people steal honey from bees in the fall, making their best guess as to how much the bees will need over the winter and how much it’s safe to take. I prefer to wait until early summer to see what’s left, and even then, I leave them a good supply. So I’ve not taken any honey from these bees, and won’t decide for a few months whether I should. The inner workings of a bee colony are incredibly complex and not completely understood. When striking a balance between our wants and the colony’s needs, I’d rather err in their favor, even if it means a little less gold in the pantry.