« Thick as a Green Brick | Main | Creature »

November 13, 2011

"A voluptuous odor, somewhere between a bakery and a brewery, rises to our nostrils. "

frischbees.jpg

It’s an unusually warm day in mid-May, and Ken Leavitt is using his hive tool,
a crowbar-cum-scraper suited for burglary or home renovation, to pry the lid off of one of his “deeps,” a capacious wooden box hung with 10 wood-and-beeswax frames seething with thousands of honey bees. The bees, along with the others in his five purple-and-white hives perched on a hillside overlooking the greenhouses of Allandale Farm on the Jamaica Plain-Brookline border, the last working farm in the area, are, as they say, busy. -- Our hives, ourselves | HiLobrow

Posted by gerardvanderleun at November 13, 2011 5:45 PM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.

Your Say

"A crowbar-cum-scraper"

Now that's just wrong.

Posted by: monkeyfan at November 15, 2011 1:28 PM

How did you get to be this very good? Its wonderful to see an individual put so much passion into a subject. Im glad I came across this. Im glad I took the time to read on past the first paragraph. Youve got so considerably to say, so considerably to provide. I hope folks realise this and look into your page.

Posted by: Asda Travel Insurance at January 3, 2012 1:15 AM

Post a comment




Remember Me?

(you may use HTML tags for style)