Chapter 27

⁠​​​‌​​​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌⁠Pop Wasilewski’s bees were suddenly swarming at winter end. On a sunny day from a secret impulse half the colony was awake, one by one whipping out to cluster on a fence post. The bearded old man brushed the yellow-brown insects into a new hive while the smoker puffed. Ellen was laughing to Mom, “I ne’er seen such a body, he’s that clever with bees.”

“Pop’s always been like that.”

Ellen had lost wei