Something is missing from the background noise of life here in Orange County.
Gone is the distinctive and insistent buzz of the honeybee, once a fixture in the hum of the outdoors--at picnics, in backyards and in orchards.
Something is missing from the background noise of life here in Orange County.
Gone is the distinctive and insistent buzz of the honeybee, once a fixture in the hum of the outdoors--at picnics, in backyards and in orchards.
The bees have fallen victim to Orange County's housing boom.
When orange groves stretched across the countryside, wild bees and their cousins from commercial beehives were everywhere. Citrus growers, farmers and gardeners embraced the bees for the role they played pollinating their crops.
But during the 1980s, the county's wild bee population was decimated by two mite infestations, leaving primarily the commercial hives. And now, like the orange trees that they helped to bear fruit, those bees are disappearing in the face of rapidly encroaching development.
During the 1960s, Orange County was firmly established as one of the nation's leaders in honey production and commercial beekeeping. As of 1996, only 38% of Orange County was undeveloped, compared with an average of 61% in other Southern California counties, according to the Southern California Assn. of Governments.
With fewer and fewer choice spots left for their hives, beekeeping is facing extinction.
"We just keep getting screwed down tighter and tighter," said Leslie Ferguson, a commercial beekeeper, or apiarist, based in Visalia, Calif.
Ferguson once had 5,000 bee colonies in Orange County. Today, he is down to 120, all in Mission Viejo. In 1988, almost 4,000 bee colonies were registered with the Orange County Agricultural Commission. Today, there are fewer than 500.
The Orange County Beekeepers Assn. had as many as 200 members during the 1980s, with 20% of them commercial apiarists. In 1999, only 50 are registered.
Beekeepers John Ford and Vinciana Passierb next week will quietly remove a cluster of 30 wooden beehives from a clearing on the south side of Riley Wilderness Park in Coto de Caza.
A complex of upscale homes, bordering the wilderness park and a stone's throw from the hives, is nearing completion. The thousands of domesticated European honeybees inside the green boxes labeled "Vinciana's Honey" would be a target for the ire of fearful residents.
Even though Ford and Passierb breed their bees to be docile, and the bees are essential for pollinating backyard gardens, the beekeepers decided to remove their hives rather than risk a confrontation with homeowners.