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<\/p>\nDay 70 of the End to End in 2019 was another walk through green countryside, often beside the river Nith, this time towards Drumlanrig Castle.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Throughout the walk the roadside verges had been continually changing. From the high hedges of the SW and the towpaths of the Midlands, the green summer verges of foxgloves and nettles were now at their height. Just as hungry caterpillars like nettles, so bees like foxgloves, disappearing inside each trumpet shaped bloom. The tiny hairs inside each flower catch the pollen each bee brings in. Each flower is decorated for maximum bee enticement and every tall spike provides many such opportunities. Where the bee sucks may in the song be inside a cowslip bell but I think of foxgloves.<\/p>\n
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There were many apiaries on the route, in small groups by streams and in meadows. Eventually a notice explained it all: Honey for sale. When walking LEJOG any distraction is welcome and I’ll stop and buy almost anything transportable. Eggs are the one thing you see lots of signs for which I don’t buy as I’m never very confident about carrying them to my next rendez-vous. But honey should be alright as I could fit a small jar in my pocket.<\/p>\n
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I walked up to the front door of the neat cottage and rang the bell. The door was opened onto a hall way lined with wooden shelves each one bearing jars of honey. The Honey Seller explained the varieties that change with the seasons and the flowers available. There’s Spring Honey and Summer Honey, also Heather Honey and Clover Honey and\u00a0 many others. I opted for Summer Honey that reminded me of the days I was walking now. Later, back at our digs for the week, I had some on a croissant. It was divine.<\/p>\n
Time for a song…<\/p>\n
“Where the bee sucks, there suck I:<\/span> Later I walked to the cemetery in Keir Mill where Kirkpatrick MacMillan, the inventor of the bicycle was buried. Another surprising day on LEJOG.<\/p>\n From the remembered bible: Psalm 119 I watch the bees so busy and buzy, JAL: 23.06.2020 in Longdendale.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Day 70 of the End to End in 2019 was another walk through green countryside, often beside the river Nith, this time towards Drumlanrig Castle. Throughout the walk the roadside verges had been continually changing. From the high hedges of the SW and the towpaths of the Midlands, the green summer verges of foxgloves and … Continue reading “Where the bee sucks”<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1118","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-remembered-bible"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/foowr.org.uk\/lejogblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1118","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/foowr.org.uk\/lejogblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/foowr.org.uk\/lejogblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foowr.org.uk\/lejogblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foowr.org.uk\/lejogblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1118"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/foowr.org.uk\/lejogblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1118\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1120,"href":"https:\/\/foowr.org.uk\/lejogblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1118\/revisions\/1120"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/foowr.org.uk\/lejogblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1118"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foowr.org.uk\/lejogblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1118"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/foowr.org.uk\/lejogblog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1118"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nIn a cowslip\u2019s bell I lie;<\/span>
\nThere I couch when owls do cry.<\/span>
\nOn the bat\u2019s back I do fly<\/span>
\nAfter summer merrily.<\/span>
\nMerrily,<\/span> Merrily shall I live now<\/span>
\nUnder the blossom that hangs on the bough”.<\/span><\/p>\n
\nYour words taste so sweet; sweeter than honey in my mouth!<\/i><\/p>\n
\neach one a little ball of energy,
\nintent on its own contribution to the communal task.
\nThe result is such sweetness.
\nMay we remember the bees,
\nand focus on bringing forth sweetness we can all share.<\/p>\n