Tales from the Northern Forests
A swarm of bees in May
is worth a load of hay.
A swarm of bees in June
is worth a silver spoon.
A swarm of bees in July
is not worth a fly.
(Old English nursery rhyme)
and the living is easy...
"Rest is not idleness,
and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day,
listening to the murmur of the water,
or watching the clouds float across the sky,
is by no means a waste of time."
John Lubbock, The Use of Life