That jar took some work.
The Label
The bee could see the flowers from the market table.
Beyond the fence, the lavender grew in three untidy rows. This morning, a drop of honey rested on the outside of a jar beneath them.
Bee landed beside it and read the label.
MRS FINCH’S HONEYED PEARS
Below that, in smaller letters: Made with local honey.
Mrs Finch was arranging jars when she noticed her visitor. “Would you like a taste?”
Bee looked at the honey on the glass. “I might already know it.”
His colony had worked among those flowers all summer. He had expected the label to say something about the bees.
“Whose honey is it?” he asked.
“From the orchard,” Mrs Finch said. “I make the pears.”
Bee folded his arms. He could see the orchard from here too. That did not settle the matter.
A Good Question
Mrs Finch fetched the honey box. It carried the name of the supplier, but no mention of a particular garden.
“It might be ours,” Bee said.
“It might,” Mrs Finch agreed.
She turned the box over. A little honey had dried beneath one flap.
“I could write ‘garden bees’ on the labels,” she said.
Bee pictured the jars in a row, each one carrying the words. Then he pictured the orchard on the other side of the hill, where another colony visited the blossoms.
“Not yet,” he said. “What if it’s theirs?”
A customer bought two jars. Bee had hoped for an answer before they were carried away.
Mrs Finch wrapped the second jar and put it in a bag. “I can ask the supplier this afternoon,” she told him.
“Will he know?”
“He keeps records. We can find out.”
The Orchard
Later, Mrs Finch brought the supplier to the garden. He checked the mark on the hive box against a note in his book. The honey for her pears had come from this garden, he said; another batch came from his orchard hives.
Bee looked up at the lavender. Two companions were working there now.
Mrs Finch showed them the label. “I made the pears. The honey came from your colony.”
The supplier opened his book again. “And I brought it from the hive.”
Mrs Finch held the label over the jar. “There’s room for all of that.”
Together they made a new label. Bee watched Mrs Finch press it onto the glass.
Room on the Jar
The new label reached almost all the way around the jar.
Mrs Finch turned it once. The pears disappeared behind the paper. The honey disappeared too, except for a golden line near the lid.
Bee landed on the table and considered it.
“Could the writing be smaller?” he asked.
Mrs Finch smiled. “I thought you wanted it noticed.”
“I do. I’d like to see the pears as well.”
She found a narrower label. This time, her name, the garden and the supplier fitted on the front, with a little space beneath.
Bee pointed to the space. “Could you leave that?”
“What for?”
He dipped one foot in the drop of honey on the outside of the jar. Before Mrs Finch could offer a cloth, he stepped onto the paper and left one small golden mark.
His companion landed beside him and left another. Mrs Finch looked at the two marks, then moved the jar away from the edge of the table.
“That one may need a new label tomorrow,” she said.
Bee inspected the pears through the glass. “We can help.”
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