Golden Honey Jars on a Sunny Counter in Sweetwater

there together for a long minute, watching the golden insects rise and fall against the shadow of the trees.

The wind brought the smell of cured hay from the next valley, cool and sharp with the promise of frost.

“I’ll take the empty crates back to the shed,” David said, stepping back toward the truck.

“Go on ahead,” I said. “I’ll walk the rest of the continue reading …