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 the evening full of the linnet's wings.
by William Butler Yeats
Because our house hangs off the side of a mountain, all it has is a long driveway and a view. And being the only arable spot on the property, the driveway is planted profusely with oak hydrangeas, daisies, day lilies, hostas, and iris.
Hundreds of bees hum their contentment as they industriously collect the pollen, daily bringing to mind Mr. Yeats' "bee-loud glade" as we pass through them to the road.
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