Thursday, March 3, 2016
March 3: Beeswax
Is there anything better, on the kind of night when the wind is so cold that it burns your cheeks and brings tears to your eyes, than coming home and lighting all the candles you can find, then drawing the hottest bath you can and sinking underwater? Close your eyes and breathe in the steam and the honeyed scent of melted beeswax and imagine a midsummer day: the warmth of the sunshine on your upturned face, the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze, the smell of grass and green and clover, the sky that clear clean blue, the promise of a swim in the lake in the very near future.
It's not that far away, not really.