Abbeys

I've been thinking about abbeys today . . . And how far are they, in their famous dissolution, from the abyss? Or being held in abeyance?

Or from abeilles, for that matter, in the French countryside, the bees that make the sound of that bumbling abeilles, and the honeys that abbeys and monasteries seem to like to gather from them, scented with lavender, with thyme or pine . . .


image: Christie B. Cochrell, St. Mary's Abbey, York