With more hives than any other state and a bloom that stretches from clover to canola to sunflower, North Dakota's beekeepers again lead the country in honey by the barrel.
It surprises many to learn that the top honey-producing state in the Union is not in the citrus south but here on the northern plains. North Dakota's patchwork of clover, alfalfa, canola and sunflower offers a moving feast that carries the hives from the first warm weeks of summer straight through to the frost, and the state's beekeepers pack more honey than any of their rivals.
A Landscape Built for the Hive
Many of those hives are travelers, wintered in California or Texas and trucked north for the plains bloom before heading west again to pollinate the almond orchards. The arrangement makes the humble North Dakota clover field a quiet linchpin of the national food supply, feeding bees that will later set fruit two thousand miles away.
From the almanac's reckoning:
- North Dakota consistently produces more honey than any other state.
- Clover, canola and sunflower provide a bloom that lasts most of the summer.
- Many plains hives migrate to California each winter to pollinate almonds.
The beekeeper's year is a study in reading the bloom — knowing when the sweet clover will open, where the canola stands thickest, and how to move the yards before a field is cut for hay. The almanac counts the bee among the most industrious of the state's laborers.
Elsewhere in the Almanac
Reading the Sky: Drought, Irrigation and the Missouri's Water
In a state where most crops drink only what the clouds provide, the recurring specter of drought keeps every grower's eye on the rain gauge — and turns some toward the water of the Missouri.
Flax Returns: The Blue-Flowered Crop Finds New Favor
Prized for its oil and its omega-rich seed, flax has staged a quiet comeback across the plains, its brief blue bloom once again dotting the northern fields.
Passing the Land On: The Delicate Art of Farm Succession
As a generation of plains farmers reaches its later years, families across the state wrestle with the hardest harvest of all — handing the farm to the next hands, or letting it go.