Showing posts with label Barbara Cartland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barbara Cartland. Show all posts

March 12, 2011

Of bees and honey

Many moons ago I read a book by Barbara Cartland. Not one of her Mills and Boon style fiction ones but a book on the properties and recipes for honey. It was called The magic of honey.
I don't remember it in detail now but I do remember the feeling it gave me. A recognition of the powers of honey and the magic of the bees.
I have always loved bees and the honey from them.
As a very young girl I can remember my nan taking me down the garden to the hives and her talking to the bees. Telling them about her day. Nothing earth shattering that first time, just general goings on.
Later she told them of her cancer, granddad's illness and his subsequent death.
But the first time I remember questioning her about the chats she told me why she did it.
The bees share their lives and life energy with us through the honey and beeswax. They also give us joy with the sounds they make and their flights to collect pollen. To share our lives by daily chats is not a big thing but it gives a little something back and is an acknowledgment of them and the role they have within our lives.
We pass on news but we also pass on a little of the anxieties and worry as well as the joy.
Bees were very important to my nan, she used their gifts of honey in her cooking and her salves. She also made beeswax candles and polish. When I discovered Barbara Cartland's book in the early 1970s it brought back so many happy memories of childhood. Moments of bliss, tasting as we picked fruits and veg or bottled preserves. Getting sticky from the spoon full of honey.
When we use honey in cooking, beeswax candles and the like I also thank the bees for their gifts. I speak to any I see, tell then snippets of my news.
Bees are very important to us all. We need them in our lives. They pollinate the plants, not just the flowers but the food we eat.
Without them we would have nothing.
The dreadful events in Japan bring home to me how much we are dependent on the earth and the Goddess. How we are so reliant on her.
All our technology and modern way of life mean nothing should the earth decide differently.
We do not have the wherewithal to prevent earthquakes or tsunamis. We are still at her mercy yet we treat this earth with such contempt and disdain.
Who are we to think we have power over her?
Yesterday's events show differently.
Is the Goddess trying to tell us something and will we listen to her?

Poetry for Brigid Imbolc

  The Lake Isle of Innisfree BY  WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay a...