Monday, May 22, 2017

Apples

For weeks I worried about the apple blossoms. March was warm. The trees budded early. Then it was cold. There was a light frost. And then another.

Husband Stephen assured me that the blossoms were in good shape. He had heard the buzzing of bees in the trees.

I hoped. I worried. I was surprised that the trees were blossoming for nearly two weeks.

I examined the lower branches of the tree that was highest in the yard. Closest to the shadow of the north-facing hill. And there, it is spotty. And there on some of the branches are apples.

Apples in the fall yield apple sauce, apple pie, dried apple slices. They increase our abundance.

The small forming fruits increase my feeling of well-being. They reassure me that the land and the ecology is not totally sick -- not totally unable to reproduce itself.

There is resilience in the old fruit trees. There is hope in the new orchard we are growing.

For today, it is enough. In today, there is always enough.

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