XII 

 As the Bee Flies 



JONATHAN had taken me to see the &quot;bee 

 tree&quot; down in the &quot;old John Lane lot.&quot; 

 Judging from the name, the spot must have 

 been a clearing at one time, but now it is one 

 of the oldest pieces of woodland in the local 

 ity. The bee tree, a huge chestnut, cut down 

 thirty years ago for its store of honey, is sink 

 ing back into the forest floor, but we could 

 still see its hollow heart and charred sides 

 where the fire had been made to smoke out 

 the bees. 



&quot;Jonathan,&quot; I said, &quot;I d like to find some 

 wild honey. It sounds so good.&quot; 



&quot;No better than tame honey,&quot; said Jona 

 than. 



&quot;It sounds better. I m sure it would be 

 different scooped out of a tree like this than 

 done up neatly in pound squares.&quot; 



&quot; Tastes just the same,&quot; persisted Jonathan 

 prosaically. 



