On top of SAIT’s culinary building, a hive of bees passes the winter insulated by honey and an insulated ‘sleeping bag’.
The hive has been winterized and “put to sleep” by the beekeeping club — but they’re not actually sleeping.
“Bees don’t hibernate the way bears do,” said Kate Symes, a faculty advisor for the club.
The bees stay awake to keep their queen alive through winter. In the fall, they drop the population size just enough to keep her buzzing. They also kick out all the male bees.
This is because the hive can only store so much food. The smaller population gives them enough honey for the cold, flowerless months.
And while the insulated “sleeping bag” helps fight the chill, bees do a great job of staying toasty on their own. They huddle together and use their wings and breath to control the temperature in the hive.
But the bees aren’t stuck there all season.
“Sometimes in the winter, you’ll have a warm chinook day, and you’ll see bees out and think: what’s happening? It’s because if it’s above four degrees, they may go out to see what’s going on,” said Symes.
For this reason and for airflow, the hive has a small, bee-sized hole at the bottom. Bees use this tiny doorway for warm-weather bathroom breaks.
“They’ll take what we call cleansing flights. They’re very hygienic. They don’t go to the bathroom in the hive,” said Simon Dunn, another faculty advisor for the beekeepers.
And as the bees stay active through the winter, so does the club.
During peak beekeeping months – generally May to late October – the club members inspect hives, harvest honey and hang out with the bees. In the winter, they stay active with activities like a honey competition, fundraising and educational seminars.
The club is open to all students, and no experience is required.
“I was terrified out of my mind to work with bees,” said Ashley Baes, a former SAIT student and beekeeping club member.
“But it was such a cool experience. To be involved with where your food comes from—I think that’s important for people to experience.”
The switch from fear to fascination seems to be common with students.
“I find a lot of people come up and they’re like: ‘oh, I just want to watch,’ ” said Symes.
“Then within half an hour, they’re in.”
Her fellow faculty advisor offers a reason for this quick turnaround.
“It’s incredibly soothing to be on the roof with a bee suit on and surrounded by bees that are humming,” said Dunn.
“It’s almost meditative. It’s as close as I can get to being a part of nature in the city.”
And for any students thinking of keeping their own bees, the club is an opportunity to test that interest for free.
“If you wanted to have bees in Calgary, you have to take a $300 beekeeping course,” explains Paul Godard, an urban hobby beekeeper. “Then you have to buy equipment. You’re looking $1,000 – $1,500 to get a hive on the ground.”
Godard began beekeeping over a decade ago, when his son showed interest.
Around the same time, an organization near their home – the Veterans Association Food Bank – started up. Godard’s son gave them their first donation: $50 and a jar of honey.
Ever since, all their honey proceeds have gone to this organization.
“It’s kind of a money-losing proposition,” said Godard of his beekeeping.
But he loves it all the same.
“I would sit back and crack a beer in the summer, the sun would be blazing, and occasionally bees come and land on you. You put your little plate of water out with some rocks, and they come in for their water. It just puts you in the Zen feeling.”
