Talking of honey (as I was last post), the mirabelle tree is humming - extraordinarily loudly - with bees. There are hives a few fields away, and Monsieur L'Apiculteur in his white van is one of the regulars along the almost-forgotten track that passes the hamlet.
In high summer, the fruit is a small orange plum, very tart to the palate. It grows in abundance, like clusters of party lights in the tree:
At a time when so many bees have been dying, probably due to industrial use of pesticides, it's good to know that our land is doing its bit to help. A judicious neglect has resulted in swathes of wild spring flowers, including banks of grape hyacinth, violets, forget-me-nots and lamia, all of which are busy with bees.
7 comments:
Deborah your posts are always so lovely and evocative. You can even make tart fruit sound appealing. Good to know that the bees are out in force and that Spring may be on its way.
Gill x
In the meantime, it is raining in London...Where did I go wrong again?
Beautiful! I can almost smell those blossoms...
I might put up with the bees just to see the fruit. As long as the bee-laden tree is far enough from the house and garden!
How lovely to see that blossom! Fabulous pictures as always Deborah. X
It's almost time for clafoutis aux mirabelle!
The blossom over this side in the SW is beautiful this year - no doubt a result of all the rain we've had...
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