Thursday, May 16, 2013

The Beekeeper's Cottage.

A strange and charming little house
beneath giant oak trees.
The door was open and I walked in, standing for a moment to get accustomed to the half light. Packed full of old beehive frames, the intense fragrance of honey. Dessicated bees crunching underfoot.

We transformed it for a few days into an 1840's German tavern. Both beekeepers were amazed by the process and often popped in to chat. A hard profession, they said, to be a beekeeper.
But they were of such an even keel, with their twinkly blue eyes and grey hair, that I felt calmer after speaking to them.
It's been a project of ups and downs and dubious politics. I have become aware, more than ever before, of the different energy we each possess, and how powerful it is.
I'm feeling depleted. There are big decisions to be made. But all I want to do for now is lie in bed and read a book.


Marie said...

I want that cat. Perhaps to lie on my chest and purr while I read a book, too :-)

Curious about your bee keepers...


the sourcerer said...

I am curious too, about the beekeepers! they have hives on farms in many different places.

The cat belongs to the lovely lady fruiterers at the Salt River market. He led me straight to a pile of Jerusalem artichokes and had a big pink yawn.