Cherry blossoms above, and below Iain witnessing his first real spring (he wasn't exactly aware of it, last time). I showed him the leaves emerging from another tree, all furled up from the ball they grew in. "Flower," he said. And they do look like flowers, stretching.
Over at Miriam's house, her fig tree has already set fruit. Grr. But my fig (a gift from her), is doing great things, too. It was just a baby when she sent it to me, and all winter long it slept in the garage. But the moment spring began to wink at us, Mr. Fig poked out a leaf.
And look at him now! He's just bursting with vigor, throwing out leaves and branches and generally indicating his lust for life.
Our current house is dark. It's dark, y'all. We find it depressing. But the new house, the one in a location where the sun shines most of the year, is a brilliant little sunbox. So I'm hoping to find Mr. Fig a spot in one of the cars, and to let him bask in the thinner mountain air. Who knows? Maybe next year Miriam and I can compare figs in August.
No comments:
Post a Comment