A Visit to Honeycomb Haven

A Visit to Honeycomb Haven

You awaken to sun streaming through the gingham curtains onto your face. You roll over to gaze out the window into the garden. The flowers dance in a slight breeze and the bees and butterflies are already at work. Nestling into your comfortable bed, you consider never moving again, but then the smell of fresh baked bread and brewing coffee reminds you that your host said something about breakfast in the garden. The anticipation of this treat drives all drowsiness from your mind, and you sit up in bed, pushing back your quilts.
Your movement disturbs the cottage's gray cat, Jasmine, who gives you a disgruntled meow before hopping from the end of your bed to peevishly wash her paws upon the woven rug. Your clothing sits upon the overstuffed chair in the corner, neatly folded and still smelling like the fresh air from when it dried on the line last laundry day. You dress and hurry through the cottage out into the garden.
After the rain the day before, the flowers all seem brighter, their blossoms open to the blue sky as the insects flutter about them. A fat bumblebee clumsily dips from blossom to blossom before hiding itself deep in a foxglove, only its fuzzy rear end sticking out as it goes about its business. Common, pale blue butterflies flit among the daisies while the dark, red-striped wings of Red Admirals flash among the purple blooms of the aptly named butterfly bush.
The path forks and a hand-painted wooden sign post points in various directions, one arrow reading "The Cottage" pointing back the way you've come, another indicating the picnic area, where you are supposed to meet your host, and a third with a yellow and black bee that points to "Honeycomb Haven." Your curiosity is stirred, and knowing you still have a little time before you are due at breakfast, you take this alternate path.
Beds of herbs and growing flowers line the path. The rough-leaved pale green sage has gone to flower, the purple flowers attracting many busy insects. Vibrant green mint explodes out of its bed, overflowing into the path itself, and pots of twiggy thyme and leafy basil sit among the tended chaos of the little garden. Among the flowers, bright eyed daises and tall hyssop sway in the light breeze.
A faint buzzing grows louder as you walk down the path, and soon you come upon a close grouping of white boxes. Bees swarm in and out of these, carrying their burden to deposit in the hives before taking off again to revisit the flowers.
Not wanting to risk going closer and disturbing them, you stand back a bit and watch them go about their work. They are far too intent upon their duties to bother with you, but the gentle humming of the hives soothes you.
Your stomach grumbles, and you realize if you don't hurry, you will be late to breakfast. You make a beeline down the path and head straight for the picnic area.
A blue and white checked table cloth has been spread over a small table now set with an impressive spread. Almond scones and jars of jam, clotted cream and whipped butter, even a tray of crispy bacon, all await. In the center of it all, slices of honeycomb, looking freshly harvested sit upon a china plate. Your host smiles and beckons you over to sit.
You settle into place, knowing another happy day awaits you at the cottage and thankful to the bees for sharing their bounty with you.
Honeycomb Haven is part of Mythologie Candles' expanded Cottagecore Collection.

1 comment


  • Diane Tompkins

    Who writes your stories? This is just lovely!


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