bee dreams & honey flights

i seem to be having a slew of bee dreams. come fall, it turns out, the bees want inside my mind. strangely, ever since Z said the name-brand of the "syrup" we tried sunday (lyle's) i've been hearing lines of sylvia plath's poem "Wintering" in my head: "It is Tate and Lyle they live on, instead of flowers./ They take it. The cold sets in." previously, i read tate and lyle as something to feed bees specifically, not a brand. a little research later and it turns out that lyle's syrup is, in fact, made by the Tate and Lyle evoked in plath's poem. for the record--it isn't so delicious straight-up. apparently it is meant more for putting in flapjacks (thanks rachel!) or for feeding the wintering bees.


in the skulks and drizzle of another chilly london morning, i am thinking of bee poetry and aching to try one of these sun-filled honeyflights.

{images via newyorkmag (we saw berseth's new work last week, more soon!) & worldpantry via designsponge}