And a hive for the honey bee

  I have always dreamt of bees: observing bees, keeping bees, loving bees. I thought I was alone in this endeavour, until my son also dreamt of bees. Looking back now, I know my Grandfather, Ned, who I never met as he died before I arrived in the world, loved bees, wanted bees and even made a beehive or two for others.

So, here I am...in Norfolk of all places, far from the places I was reared..and I am about to get bees. I say I; I mean we. 

We arose and came here. Nine beans rows (at least) we have here. And peace comes dropping slow.

I hope to renew my blog posting with some updates about bee keeping. Maybe I'll get back to sharing some thoughts on life, faith, cooking and family like I used to.

There is one thing about bees I do know. They are amazing, beautiful and essential to life on earth. There are some things the children have taught me: they are furry, have five eyes and are responsible for one third of the food you and I eat. 

I know also you should tell the bees all your news; they listen intently. I know that it is essential that humanity rekindles its romance with nature, possibly starting with the birds and the bees. For this is what humanity needs to survive.

But of all the things I know, I know this: the bees have more to teach me about the life I am living than I can possibly imagine. I am just going to have to listen to them, watch them and learn from them. By doing this, and teaching my family to do the same then, only then will we begin the journey from keeping bees to learning from the bees. And that journey is life long.

I add the WB Yeats poem because.... well, we did arise and come here. We didn't build a cabin, but we built a home and renovated a cottage. We have more than nine bean rows (not boasting); we have pumpkins, squashes, chard, garlic, beans, tomatoes, potatoes, cabbages, cucumbers and much still to sow. Peace does come dropping slow - when you let it - and the crickets chirrup so loud they wake you at dawn.

I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.

And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

WB Yeats