Otrera's Apiary

Do you want to help Save The Bees?

Then help them strengthen their microbiome and the purity of the hive.

The vast majority of commercial honey on shelves comes from hives treated with harsh anti-mite pesticides. Recent scientific research proves what we’ve known all along: mites adapt faster than chemical treatments can be invented.

Mites continue to destroy hives because synthetic miticides have weakened the bees' natural genetics. The result? You end up eating pesticides, and our wild bee populations continue to decline (which scientists warn threatens global food webs).

Since day one, Otrera’s has taken a different path. We focus on raising locally-adaptive survivor colonies—bees that use their own innate abilities to fight pests without mass-marketed, toxic quick-fixes. Our bees live in top-bar hives, which are far more in tune with their native instincts than the mass-production Langstroth hives used in commercial apiaries.

Resilience and biological balance are the only true answers. Chemical warfare is a losing game. visit our website for the study. https://www.otreras.com/save-the-bees

Pollen is the bees’ protein pantry. 🌼🐝
Nectar and honey give bees energy. Pollen gives them what they need to grow: protein, fats, vitamins, and minerals. Nurse bees use it to make the brood food that raises the next generation. Without pollen, a hive can have plenty of honey and still struggle.
Foragers collect it on their fuzzy bodies, pack it into the pollen baskets on their hind legs, and carry it home. Inside the hive, they don’t just dump it in a pile. They pack it into comb cells with a little nectar or honey and glandular secretions. Over time, that mix ferments into bee bread.
That step matters. Raw pollen is wrapped in a tough outer coat that is hard to digest. Fermentation, moisture, and bee enzymes help break that coat down, preserve the pollen, and make more of its nutrients available. For bees, bee bread is the finished food. Raw pellets straight off a flower are only the ingredient.
So pollen isn’t just “bee dust.” It’s a harvested ingredient that bees process into real food — and that extra step is what makes it useful.
Have you ever seen those bright orange and yellow pollen pants on a returning forager?

How did we get from fixed-comb skeps to the hives we use today? 🐝📜
The path to the modern beehive involved several key figures:
In the late 1600s, English clergyman Reverend Samuel Mew carefully observed bees (even through glass) and noted that they begin building from the top of the hive — an important early insight into how colonies organize themselves.
A major leap came in 1789 when Swiss naturalist François Huber (who was blind and worked with the help of his assistant) invented the “leaf hive” or “book hive.” This design used a series of frames that opened like the pages of a book, allowing beekeepers to inspect individual combs without destroying the nest.
Then in 1851–1852, American clergyman Rev. L.L. Langstroth made the breakthrough that changed beekeeping worldwide. By applying the principle of “bee space,” he created a practical top-opening hive with fully movable frames. His design became the foundation of the modern Langstroth hive still used by most beekeepers today.
Top-bar hives have an even older lineage. Ancient Greek beekeepers used basket and pottery hives with bars across the top from which bees hung their comb. The modern horizontal top-bar hive (including the styles we use at Otrera’s) builds on that simple, natural principle — giving bees freedom to build comb as they prefer while still allowing the beekeeper to inspect and manage the colony.
From ancient top bars to Huber’s leaf hive to Langstroth’s frames, each step brought us closer to working with the bees rather than against them.
Which style of hive do you prefer?

Not all bees are honey bees — and the ones in the most trouble usually aren’t living in a hive.
Only nine bee species are listed as endangered under the U.S. Endangered Species Act. That includes the rusty patched bumble bee, Franklin’s bumble bee, and seven tiny Hawaiian yellow-faced bees. Honey bees are not on that list. They’re managed livestock. The crisis is mostly with wild, native bees — the ones nesting in soil, hollow stems, and dead wood. Texas doesn’t have those nine listed species in our backyards, but we do have hundreds of native bees that need the same things: food, nesting space, and a break from chemicals.
You don’t need acres to help. A messy corner of a Southeast Texas yard can do real work.
Plant for a long season, not one pretty week. Early: redbud, native blueberries, coral honeysuckle. Midsummer: black-eyed Susan, purple coneflower, wild bergamot (bee balm), lanceleaf coreopsis, Turk’s cap, frogfruit, butterfly w**d. Late: goldenrod, asters, mistflower, sunflowers. American beautyberry and yaupon pull double duty as native shrubs.
Give them a home, not just a buffet. About 70% of native bees nest in the ground — leave a sunny patch of bare, untilled soil and skip the heavy mulch there. Cavity nesters use pithy stems. After bloom, don’t cut everything to the dirt. Leave stalks 8–24 inches tall through winter (bee balm, sunflower, coneflower, elderberry). A simple “hotel” works too: untreated 4x4 with holes drilled 3–6 inches deep in mixed sizes (about 1/8" to 3/8"), hung facing morning sun with a little roof. Replace or clean blocks every couple of years so pests don’t build up.
Skip the spray when flowers are open. If you have to treat plants, do it in the evening when bees are done for the day, and keep it off blooms. A shallow water dish with pebbles gives them a safe landing spot in this heat.
At Otrera’s, we keep honey bees — and we also care about the wild ones that were here first. Healthy native bees mean healthier landscapes, better pollination, and more resilient Texas country.
What’s one small change you can make this fall — leave the stems, plant one native, or skip a spray? Tell us below.

Honey bees are social insects — but most of their relatives are not. 🐝
They belong to Hymenoptera, the group that includes bees, wasps, ants, and sawflies. Most of those insects live alone. A single female builds a nest, lays eggs, and provides food. Then the next generation is on its own.
Honey bees are different. They are highly eusocial:

• overlapping generations live together

• they share the work of raising young

• only the queen normally reproduces

• workers have specialized jobs

• the colony itself survives and reproduces through swarming

Even other social relatives are different. Bumble bee and many wasp colonies are usually annual — they start in spring and die back in winter. Honey bees keep a perennial colony, store honey, build wax comb, and live as one superorganism.
Most bees in the world actually live alone. Honey bees are the rare exception that built a city.

Long before wooden hives, beekeepers in northern Europe managed honey bee colonies right inside living trees. 🌳🐝
In the forests of what is now Poland, Germany, the Baltic region, and Russia, people carefully worked with natural tree cavities — and later carved or enlarged openings high in the trunks of mature trees. They would add a simple wooden “door,” climb up to harvest honey, and leave the colony largely intact so it could continue living in the tree for years. This practice is known as tree beekeeping or forest beekeeping.
Some of the oldest surviving evidence of this technique comes from a section of tree trunk recovered from the River Oder. Carbon dating shows the tree was growing in the 1st century BC, and it still carries the distinctive vertical access slit used by early forest beekeepers.
It’s a beautiful reminder that for centuries, people and bees shared the forest in a more natural partnership — long before the modern hive was invented.
Have you ever seen photos of old tree hives?

For centuries, people believed the largest bee in the hive was a king. 👑🐝
That changed in 1609 when English beekeeper and writer Charles Butler published The Feminine Monarchie, or the History of Bees — the first major beekeeping book written in English. Through careful observation, Butler recognized that the so-called “king” was actually a queen.
Earlier writers, going all the way back to Aristotle, had described a male ruler of the hive. Butler helped correct that long-standing mistake and shared practical knowledge about hive life, swarming, and the roles of workers and drones. His book remained an important guide for beekeepers for more than 200 years.
It’s a great reminder that even long-held beliefs about bees can change when someone takes the time to really watch and listen to the colony.
At Otrera’s, we’re still learning from these remarkable insects every day.
Have you ever heard the old “king bee” story before?

Syrup day in the kitchen — hive checks are Monday. 🐝🍯
We mixed sugar water with a little citric acid to make inverted syrup (glucose and fructose). That extra step helps break the sugar down before it ever reaches the hive, so the bees don’t have to spend as much energy processing it themselves.
We’re feeding now because Southeast Texas is still in a lean nectar stretch, and we want the colonies strong going into fall. Monday’s inspections will tell us how stores look, how the brood is doing, and whether the newer hives need a little more support.
Simple ingredients. Careful prep. Ready for the bees.