End of November. The first frost has passed and the leaves are on the ground and we have to wear orange when we leave the house here in Mississippi deer season. I’d like to remember sunnier scenes from this summer. I remember a lavender garden in California. A tiny piece of France on the tippy top of Mt St Helena. It was in full bloom. How the honeybees feasted!
When I started my hives in Brooklyn I planted a few lavender plants around them in hopes of flavoring my honey. But Mom said that it would take fields of lavender to affect the taste, and, as far as I know, that really only happens in France. Even so… I thought I tasted it in my Brooklyn honey anyway. Perhaps all the lavender in window boxes in New York City add up to one French field?