How to Keep Bees Away from Hummingbird Feeders Without Harming Either Species

Picture this: you've just hung up a beautiful red feeder filled with sweet nectar, anticipating the arrival of those jewel-like hummingbirds. Within hours, though, your feeder becomes a buzzing airport for honeybees, wasps, and yellow jackets. Sound familiar? This territorial dispute between our flying friends has frustrated backyard bird enthusiasts for decades, turning what should be a peaceful hobby into a constant battle of wits.

I've spent countless mornings watching this drama unfold in my own garden, and let me tell you, it's taught me more about insect behavior than any textbook ever could. The thing is, both bees and hummingbirds are after the same precious resource – that sugar-water gold we're offering. And honestly, who can blame them? In nature's economy, easily accessible calories are like finding a twenty-dollar bill on the sidewalk.

Understanding the Root of the Problem

Before diving into solutions, we need to acknowledge something important: bees aren't the villains here. They're just opportunistic foragers doing what millions of years of evolution have programmed them to do. When a scout bee discovers your feeder, she (yes, the foragers are female) returns to the hive and performs her waggle dance, essentially posting a five-star Yelp review about your nectar buffet. Before you know it, you've got a convention.

The real issue isn't just competition for food. Bees can actually discourage hummingbirds from feeding altogether. I once watched a rufous hummingbird – notorious for their feisty temperament – back down from a feeder swarming with honeybees. If a rufous won't fight for sugar water, you know the situation is serious. Plus, bee stings can injure or even kill these tiny birds, whose hearts already beat over 1,200 times per minute during flight.

The Physics of Feeding: Why Design Matters

Here's something most people don't realize: hummingbirds and bees have fundamentally different feeding equipment. Hummingbirds sport those remarkable tongues that can lap up nectar 13 times per second, while bees need a landing platform to access their meal. This anatomical difference is your secret weapon.

Saucer-style feeders have become my go-to recommendation, and not just because they're easier to clean (though that's a nice bonus). These shallow designs position the nectar just within reach of a hummingbird's tongue but too far for a bee's shorter proboscis. It's like putting the cookie jar on a high shelf – effective without being mean-spirited.

I learned this lesson the hard way after stubbornly clinging to my grandmother's vintage bottle-style feeder for years. Sure, it was gorgeous with its blown glass and copper accents, but those yellow flower ports? They might as well have had "BEES WELCOME" signs. The feeding ports on many traditional feeders are essentially bee landing strips, complete with convenient perches.

Strategic Placement and the Art of Misdirection

Location, location, location – it's not just for real estate. Where you hang your feeder can make the difference between a hummingbird haven and a bee bonanza. Full sun might seem logical (hummingbirds are active during daylight, after all), but it also creates ideal conditions for bees and accelerates nectar fermentation.

I've had the best luck placing feeders in dappled shade, preferably with some morning sun but afternoon protection. Not only does this discourage bees (who prefer working in full sunlight), but it also keeps the nectar fresher longer. One summer, I experimented with moving a problematic feeder just six feet into a shadier spot, and the bee traffic dropped by about 80% within two days.

But here's where things get interesting – and slightly devious. Some folks swear by the "bait and switch" method: hanging a shallow dish of concentrated sugar water (say, 1:1 ratio) away from the hummingbird feeders. The theory is that bees will prefer the richer food source and leave your feeders alone. I've tried this with mixed results. Sometimes it works brilliantly; other times, you just end up feeding twice as many bees.

The Nectar Recipe Debate

Speaking of sugar ratios, let's address the elephant in the room: nectar concentration. The standard recommendation is 1 part sugar to 4 parts water, mimicking the average nectar concentration in flowers. But I've noticed something curious over the years – bees seem less interested in more dilute solutions.

Now, before you start watering down your nectar to 1:6 or 1:8, remember that hummingbirds need those calories, especially during migration. It's a delicate balance. I've settled on sticking with 1:4 but being more vigilant about other bee-deterrent strategies. Some people advocate for 1:5 during peak bee season, which might be worth trying if you're desperate.

Whatever you do, please don't add honey, artificial sweeteners, or red dye to your nectar. I once met someone who thought adding honey would be "more natural" – it's not, and it can actually promote dangerous fungal growth.

Mechanical Barriers and Clever Modifications

This is where backyard engineering meets wildlife management. Bee guards – those little plastic or metal screens that fit over feeding ports – can be remarkably effective. The mesh allows hummingbird tongues through while blocking bee access. Just make sure you're buying guards specifically designed for your feeder model; I learned that universal doesn't always mean universal after ordering the wrong size twice.

Some creative souls have had success with applying a thin layer of cooking oil or mentholated salve around (not on) the feeding ports. Bees apparently find these textures and scents off-putting. I tried the cooking oil method once but found it too messy and worried about it getting on the birds' feathers. The mentholated approach seemed to work better, though you need to reapply it frequently.

One modification I absolutely don't recommend? Those ultrasonic pest repellers marketed for bees. First, there's little evidence they work. Second, we don't fully understand how these frequencies might affect hummingbirds' navigation or communication.

Natural Deterrents and Garden Planning

Here's where my perspective might ruffle some feathers (pun intended): I believe the best long-term solution involves thinking beyond the feeder. Creating a garden that provides natural nectar sources for both bees and hummingbirds can reduce competition at feeders.

Plant bee-friendly flowers away from your feeding station – lavender, sunflowers, and cosmos are fantastic bee magnets. Meanwhile, near your feeders, focus on tubular flowers that hummingbirds love but bees find challenging: cardinal flower, bee balm (ironically), and trumpet vine. It's not about excluding bees from your garden entirely; it's about giving everyone their own dining space.

I've also noticed that certain herbs seem to discourage bees from specific areas. Peppermint and lemongrass planted near feeders might help, though this is more anecdotal than scientific. Just be warned: mint is basically the garden equivalent of that houseguest who never leaves. Plant it in containers unless you want a mint farm.

Timing and Maintenance Routines

Bees are creatures of habit, typically most active during the warmest parts of the day. Hummingbirds, being early risers, often feed heavily at dawn and dusk. By maintaining your feeders during these off-peak bee hours, you can minimize encounters.

I've developed a routine of taking feeders in during peak bee hours (usually 10 AM to 3 PM) on particularly problematic days. Yes, it's a hassle, but it's less frustrating than watching bees monopolize the feeders all day. Some people use this strategy only during late summer when bee activity peaks.

Cleanliness is crucial too. Spilled nectar is like putting out a welcome mat for bees. I clean up drips immediately and wash feeders every 2-3 days in hot weather. That sticky residue on the outside of your feeder? That's a bee beacon. A quick wipe with a damp cloth can make a surprising difference.

When All Else Fails: Acceptance and Adaptation

Sometimes, despite our best efforts, certain locations or seasons just favor bees. I've learned to accept this with something approaching zen-like calm (most days). During peak bee season in late summer, when colonies are desperately building up winter stores, competition intensifies.

Rather than fighting a losing battle, I've occasionally switched to offering multiple smaller feeders in different locations, ensuring at least some remain bee-free. It's not perfect, but it maintains that crucial food source for migrating hummingbirds.

There's also value in remembering that both bees and hummingbirds are facing environmental challenges. Habitat loss, climate change, and pesticide use threaten both groups. In the grand scheme, sharing some sugar water seems like a small price for supporting these essential pollinators.

A Personal Reflection on Coexistence

After years of this dance, I've come to see the bee-hummingbird feeder situation as a microcosm of larger environmental challenges. We humans insert ourselves into natural systems with our good intentions (feeding wildlife) and then struggle with the unintended consequences. The solution isn't to stop feeding hummingbirds or to wage war on bees, but to thoughtfully manage our interventions.

My most successful seasons have come from combining multiple strategies rather than seeking a silver bullet. A saucer feeder in partial shade, with bee guards and native plants nearby, maintained with careful attention to cleanliness – this integrated approach works better than any single technique.

I'll admit there are still mornings when I look out to see my feeder covered in bees and feel that familiar frustration rising. But then I remember the afternoon last spring when I watched a bee and a hummingbird feeding peacefully side by side, each focused on their own survival, oblivious to my human concerns about property rights and fair access.

Perhaps the real lesson isn't about keeping bees away at all, but about creating spaces where multiple species can thrive, even if it means occasionally accepting a little chaos in our carefully planned gardens. After all, nature has never been particularly interested in our human desire for order and control.

The next time you're adjusting your feeder or shooing away bees, remember that you're participating in an ancient dance of survival and adaptation. With patience, observation, and a willingness to experiment, you can find a balance that works for your unique situation. And who knows? You might just learn something about yourself in the process.

Authoritative Sources:

Williamson, Sheri L. A Field Guide to Hummingbirds of North America. Houghton Mifflin, 2001.

Russell, Stephen M., and Russell O. Russell. The North American Beekeeper's Handbook. Cornell University Press, 2019.

"Feeding Hummingbirds." Cornell Lab of Ornithology, www.allaboutbirds.org/news/feeding-hummingbirds.

"Best Practices for Hummingbird Feeding." Smithsonian's National Zoo & Conservation Biology Institute, nationalzoo.si.edu/migratory-birds/hummingbird-feeding.

Tallamy, Douglas W. Nature's Best Hope: A New Approach to Conservation That Starts in Your Yard. Timber Press, 2019.

"Bee Behavior and Foraging Patterns." University of California Agriculture and Natural Resources, ucanr.edu/sites/urbanbees/Bee_Behavior.

Grant, Kimberly J., and Paul A. Grant. "Hummingbird-Pollinator Interactions in Western North America." Western North American Naturalist, vol. 78, no. 4, 2018, pp. 670-682.