Explore "The Hills of Hingham" by Dallas Lore Sharp on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
And this our life, exempt from public haunt and those swift currents that carry the city-dweller resistlessly into the movie show, leaves us caught in the quiet eddy of little unimportant things, -- digging among the rutabagas, playing the hose at night, casting the broody hens into the "dungeon," or watching the bees.
Many hours of my short life I have spent watching the bees, -- blissful, idle hours, saved from the wreck of time, hours fragrant of white clover and buckwheat and filled with the honey of nothing-to-do; every minute of them capped, like the comb within the hive, against the coming winter of my discontent. If, for the good of mankind, I could write a new Commandment to the Decalogue, it would read: Thou shalt keep a hive of bees.