Golden Honey Jars on a Sunny Counter in Sweetwater

By eight o’clock on Saturday morning, the dew was still heavy on the blue canvas awning of our market stall.

David set the first wooden crate of summer honey onto the trestle table, the jars clinking against each other with a clear, solid ring.

I held the wooden support pole steady while he tightened the brass thumb screws on the corner bracket.

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