Hazelnut: Pollen is precious for bees in January

There's a moment, in the heart of winter, when the apiary seems to be asleep. It's cold, the flowers are a distant memory, and the bees remain huddled in their clusters, warming each other. Yet, on a sunny January day, something surprising can happen: a few bees leave, wander off, and return with tiny balls of yellow pollen clinging to their legs. But where did they find it, if almost nothing is blooming out there?

The answer is called hazelnut. This humble shrub is among the very first plants to flower each year and provides bees with invaluable pollen just when they need it most. In this article, we'll explain why the hazelnut is such a discreet yet essential ally for our pollinating friends. Because we at Salva le Api believe that understanding nature is the first small gesture of love we can give it.

The hazelnut tree, a shrub from our home

The core (Corylus avellana) is a shrub of the Betulaceae family, widespread throughout Italy in woodlands, hedgerows, and uncultivated areas. It rarely exceeds six or seven meters in height and often grows as a bush, with multiple stems growing from the base. But here in Piedmont, it is much more than just a wild plant: it is a symbol of the region. Our hills, from the Langhe to the Roero, are the kingdom of the Piedmont Hazelnut PGI, the celebrated Tonda Gentile, which makes cakes, creams, and chocolates famous throughout the world.

In short, the hazelnut has always been part of the landscape and culture of this land. Its cultivation, hazelnut growing, is now a key economic resource for the Langhe and Roero regions, where entire hills are tinged with the brilliant green of hazelnut groves and where hazelnuts fuel a supply chain that extends all the way to major chocolate brands.

But this plant is generous far beyond its fruits. For centuries, it has provided flexible wood for baskets, barrel hoops, and sticks, hedges that protect fields from the wind, and shelter for countless wild animals, from birds to squirrels. Managed as a coppice, it easily sends out new shoots, regenerating itself season after season. And, most dear to us, it offers bees a gift that arrives first: its winter pollen. To truly appreciate it, however, we must first understand how and when this very special plant flowers.

A blossoming in the heart of winter

The most extraordinary feature of the hazelnut tree is its calendar: while almost all other plants are dormant, it flowers between January and February, sometimes as early as December in milder climates. It's one of the earliest flowerings ever, a small miracle that anticipates spring by weeks.

Two types of flowers coexist on every plant. The male ones are the famous catkins, those pendulous, yellowish tufts we've all noticed at least once: at the slightest breath of wind, they release veritable clouds of pollen. The female ones, however, are much more discreet: tiny red flowers, similar to little stars, that emerge from the buds and wait to be reached by the pollen.

And here's an important detail to understand: the hazelnut tree is pollinated by the wind, not by insects. For this reason, it doesn't produce nectar and doesn't produce monofloral honey. Its richness lies entirely in the enormous quantity of pollen it releases into the air, a very light pollen, designed to travel far, carried by winds. It's so abundant that, for allergy sufferers, these catkins are among the primary culprits of late-winter discomfort. What's a nuisance to some, however, is a treasure to bees: the pollen, dispersed by the wind in millions of grains, is eagerly collected on the rare warm days of the cold season and transformed into precious nourishment.

Then, when the wind finishes its work, those small red flowers transform, months later, into the hazelnuts we'll harvest in autumn. It's a long, patient cycle, beginning in the January frost and concluding under the late summer sun: a beautiful reminder of how, in nature, each season silently prepares the next, never truly stopping.

Why January pollen is so valuable to bees

To understand the value of this gift, you have to enter the hive in winter. When it's cold, the bees gather in a compact sphere, the cluster, and live off the reserves accumulated during the warmer months. It's a delicate period: towards the end of winter, the queen slowly begins laying eggs again, and the hive needs renewed energy to raise the first larvae.

Here's the thing. Nectar and honey provide primarily sugars, i.e., fuel; pollen, on the other hand, is the main source of protein, essential for nourishing the brood and young bees. If this distinction piques your interest, we've explored it in more detail in the article on difference between pollen and nectar. And it is precisely at the end of winter that pollen reserves in the hive risk running low.

This is why the pollen provided by the stone is so important: it arrives at the most critical time of the year, when little else is available, and provides the family with a crucial protein boost to restart the new season. On days when temperatures exceed ten or twelve degrees, the foragers come out and hunt for these loaded catkins. That pollen, once stored and transformed into "bee bread," becomes the first restorative meal of the year. It's the same precious food that, collected by beekeepers, we know as a natural supplement: we discuss it in the article dedicated to pollen and its benefits.

For the attentive beekeeper, seeing the bees returning with their baskets laden with yellow pollen is much more than a pretty sight: it's a sign. It means the bee colony is alive, the queen has started laying again, and the hive is slowly recovering. It's one of the first visual checks you can do in winter, without even opening the hive and disturbing the bees in the cold. And when spontaneous blooms are slow, knowing that a plant like this is there to provide protein helps you decide whether and when to intervene with emergency nutrition.

Not just hazelnuts: the first blooms of the year

The hazelnut isn't the only winter hero, but it often leads a small team of courageous plants. In the following weeks, willow, alder, dogwood, and then dandelion join in, accompanying the bees toward spring with a growing flow of pollen and, finally, nectar.

It's a very different role from that of the large honey trees that produce the most beloved honeys. If you want to grasp the contrast, think of the chestnut, which in midsummer offers abundant nectar and intense honey, or linden tree, with its fragrant June blossoms. The hazelnut tree doesn't compete with them for honey: its role is different, equally vital. It's the gentle alarm clock that brings life back to the hive, the first link in a chain of blooms that will last until autumn.

Seen this way, every plant has its place and its time. And learning to recognize them means learning to read the bees' secret calendar, marked not by months but by flowers.

How to help bees in winter

The good news is that helping bees get through the winter is easier than it seems, and hazelnuts are a great place to start. If you have a garden or plot of land, planting a hazelnut or maintaining a mixed hedge with early-flowering shrubs means offering pollinators an open table even during the harshest months.

Another simple step is to resist the temptation to prune or clean everything in the fall: allowing the catkins to grow undisturbed ensures pollen when it's needed most. You can do even more by planting other early-flowering species—willow, dogwood, hawthorn, alder—to extend food availability for weeks, and by avoiding pesticides altogether, which can be fatal for still-weak families during the recovery months. Even a small, shallow water source, where bees can drink without risking drowning, plays a role on sunny days. These same choices guide our work in the oases between Roero and Langhe, where we protect pollinators and cultivate flower corridors designed to accompany them in every season, including winter. You can also find valuable botanical information on the plant at this dedicated card, useful for understanding its characteristics better.

Every tree matters, every hedge matters, every flower matters. 🐝

So, the next time you see the yellow tufts of hazelnut trees trembling in the January wind, you'll know they're not just an early sign of spring: they're the bees' first breakfast, the silent gift of a generous shrub that, in its own way, helps keep entire hives alive. And that's already a great reason to look at it with new eyes.