Standing all raggedy, twiggy and forlorn in my backyard is a peach tree. Its naked form reminds me of a piece by German poet and novelist Johann Wolfgang von Goethe:
"Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Looking at its sad appearance who would think that those stiff branches, those jagged twigs would turn green again and blossom and bear fruit next spring; but we hope they will, we know they will."
I believe that one of the most difficult and courageous things we can do for ourselves, our families, friends and clients who look to us for a little encouragement is to acknowledge a time of fearful barrenness, that hum of panicky anxiety. And only then turn coax an expectant face toward spring.
This photograph reminding me that the honeybees are soon on the local blooms was taken by friend and fellow beewrangler, Janet Andrews of Backyard Bees who creates some of the most remarkable honey creams and lip balms you will find anywhere. Even my pure honey and beeswax cappings find their way into her luscious product. Family in the chill mountains of Colorado and the dry indoors of New Hampshire swear by its restorative properties.
Every one of us every day needs a little something good.
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