Nine Bean Rows

When the beans are sprouting I am always reminded of the poem “The Lake Isle of Innisfree” by William Butler Yeats and enjoy the summer mornings in my “bee-loud glade”, though I do not have a cabin and there is no lake near, yet the veils of morning and the midnight’s glimmer are real, and I feel the pull of nature in the earth’s deep core.
And I always plant nine rows of beans.