Hive Song
We know they dance. But do they sing?
The singing hive.
While working a large commercial bee yard, I first heard an unusual sound. I planned to carefully inspect that hive. But before I could, the hive was disturbed and the sound stopped. When I looked, I couldn't find anything unusual. That sound was so loud and unique, that I didn't think the bees produced it. I though some critter was inside the hive and had escaped.
Years later, I heard this sound, a second time, while working queen rearing hives. This time, the situation was different. Unlike the first encounter, where a single hive was one of thousands worked, never to be seen again, I worked these hives every few days. And I knew these hives individually.
Again, thinking a critter was inside, I set out to find it. While gently removing the cover, the sound stopped. So, keeping an eye on the hive entrance to thwart an escape, I carefully removed a frame from the top super. Inspected it. And set it aside. Then I inspected each frame inside the top super. Nothing! So, I removed the top super. Up ended it. And set it on the ground.
The sound resumed at a lower volume. It was coming from the unexplored hive body. I repeated the process, again watching the hive entrance for any escapees. And as before, the sound stopped.
I completely dismantled that hive and found nothing unusual. Thinking the critter escaped, I set the hive back together. Then an unusual thing happened. The sound, although much fainter, started again. It came from that first super sitting on the ground. Ha Ha, I thought, I've got you now!
So, I carefully lifted the super and set it down on top of an adjacent hive. The sound stopped. I carefully inspected it without removing any frames. Again nothing. So, I watched and waited. After 15 silent minutes, I decided to set the hive together.
Then, as I was putting the hive together, the sound started again. It was soft and localized in a small area of the bottom hive body. I set the super on it. The sound's volume increased. It gradually spread throughout the bottom hive body and into the lower portions of the top box. The bees were making the sound! Amazing creatures I thought and wondering what the sound meant, I closed up the hive.
A half dozen years passed. I'd set up a hive, with a plexiglass inner cover, in my backyard. I monitored it several times a day. After returning from work, I heard that sound again. I was 75 feet away from the hive and immediately knew what it was. Oh my gosh, I thought. I ran over to the hive. And sure enough, it was making the same sound.
I carefully backed away from the hive, not wanting to disturb them. Then I began a frantic search for a way to record the sound. What happened to all those old cassette tape recorders anyway? Surely, my teenage son, who is steeped in electronic gadgetry, has a means of recording sound. Not so. I couldn't believe it! Would I have time to rush to a box store and buy something before the bees switched gears?
Then, I remember a feature on my digital camera. I had never used it and couldn't even remember how to use it. The camera could record small video clips with sound. So, out came the camera and the manual. I carefully set the camera on top of the hive and recorded the sound. The recording didn't do justice to the sound. I think the daytime sound overwhelmed the camera's miniscule, directional microphone. But it was the best I could do.
Once the sound was recorded. I carefully removed the hive cover to expose the plexiglass inner cover. Now I had a chance to observe the bees making the sound without disturbing them. The sound abated for a moment. Then started in the hive's lower areas and gradually spread. No unusual bee behavior or activity were observed through the plex inner cover. I decided to just observe and not intrude into the hive. No more looking for strange critters :>)
The bees starting making this sound about midmorning, on a very hot summer day. Between nectar flows, the bees foraging was minimal. They continued producing the sound for about 24 hours. At night, the volume decreased and its staccato like frequency was reduced. By early next morning the volume and frequency were back up to their previous daytime levels.
After a day, I was embolden and decided to gently knock on the hive's side. A few quick knocks would reduce the volume, near the knock. But it would gradually return. I tried this in several different areas of the hive. Then left them alone.
By midafternoon that second day, the sound stopped. And I haven't heard it, in any hive, since then.
So, here it is. Listen carefully. It isn't the squawking bird or the barking dog or the car. And I'm a little dismayed the bee sound, which is so loud, sounds muted in this recording. If you have trouble discerning it, try turning up the volume on your computer. Listening to the night sound first, helps as the sound is at a much slower tempo. The day sound. The night sound.
Have you ever heard anything like this?