If Bears Were Bees, If Bees Were Bears Perfume Oil

IF BEARS WERE BEES, IF BEES WERE BEARS

Winnie-the-Pooh sat down at the foot of the tree, put his head between his paws and began to think.

First of all he said to himself: “That buzzing-noise means something. You don’t get a buzzing-noise like that, just buzzing and buzzing, without its meaning something. If there’s a buzzing-noise, somebody’s making a buzzing-noise, and the only reason for making a buzzing-noise that I know of is because you’re a bee.”

Then he thought another long time, and said: “And the only reason for being a bee that I know of is making honey.”

And then he got up, and said: “And the only reason for making honey is so as I can eat it.” So he began to climb the tree.

He climbed and he climbed and he climbed, and as he climbed he sang a little song to himself. It went like this:

Isn’t it funny
How a bear likes honey?
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
I wonder why he does?

Then he climbed a little further … and a little further … and then just a little further. By that time he had thought of another song.

It’s a very funny thought that, if Bears were Bees,
They’d build their nests at the bottom of trees.
And that being so (if the Bees were Bears),
We shouldn’t have to climb up all these stairs.

He was getting rather tired by this time, so that is why he sang a Complaining Song. He was nearly there now, and if he just stood on that branch …

Crack!

“Oh, help!” said Pooh, as he dropped ten feet on the branch below him.

The bees were still buzzing as suspiciously as ever. A golden gourmand for a philosopher. Wild clover honey buzzing with mead fizz, a gust of woodsmoke, and a dusting of ambered pollen.

5ml Perfume Oil
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The Hundred-Acre Wood

Christopher Robin was sitting outside his door, putting on his Big Boots. As soon as he saw the Big Boots, Pooh knew that an Adventure was going to happen, and he brushed the honey off his nose with the back of his paw, and spruced himself up as well as he could, so as to look Ready for Anything.

Part nursery dream, part ancient magic. Beneath the dappled sunlight of the Hundred Acre Wood hums something older: the hush of time, the sweetness of honey and kindness, the wisdom of wonder and simplicity, the moss-soft echo of laughter trailing down a timeworn path.

Here live the small gods of childhood: a bear of very little brain, a timid pig, a gloomy donkey, a fussy rabbit, a wise owl, a tiger all bounce and blaze, a patient mother and her precocious child, and the bees, forever busy. Their world is stitched from memory and meadow air, a place of lost afternoons, joyous contentment, and golden jars of honey that never seem to empty.

Each scent in this collection captures a moment of joy, of comfort, of courage, and of melancholy, suspended like amber light in a bottle.

Somewhere in the Wood someone is humming.

Yule 2025

No winter lasts forever; no spring skips its turn. Hal Borland’s reassurance feels especially poignant now, in a year that has asked so much of us. It has been a challenging season in countless ways: globally, locally, intimately. The darkness has felt long, the chill of countless terrors freezing the breath in our lungs and the beat of our hearts. And yet, threaded through every difficult moment is a truth that refuses to dim: we are not meant to walk through any of this alone.

Community is not a luxury in times like these; it is a lifeline. It is the network of hands that lift us up when we falter, it is the shelter against the storm. In dark times, community becomes the architecture of hope, built from small acts of care: a meal cooked, a message sent, a burden shared.

Love, too, becomes a form of courage during periods of extreme upheaval. It is the choice to remain open-hearted despite the horrors. Compassion is love’s companion; supporting those who are vulnerable, asking for help when we need it, offering comfort without being asked… this is what will keep the cold from taking root inside us.

No winter lasts forever. And when the thaw comes – when sunlight returns to the edges of our days – it will be because we kept one another warm. With the strength we find in each other, with the communities we build and nurture, we will see spring again together soon.

Hold onto each other. We’re all we have.

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