The first year in our home, we planted four fruit trees–two peach (white and yellow) and two nectarine (white and yellow.) We loved those little guys! Year after year they produced delicious fruit. There was always such an abundance of peaches and nectarines, we could give plenty away to friends and neighbors. Then the fruit diminished in size and quantity. It was time for the trees to go.
Here in the valley, it is a common site to see fruit trees uprooted and orchards replanted. Even thought I know it’s the nature of things, I always feel a tinge of sadness whenever I see it; I try to drive by reverently with my shoes symbolically off my feet because this is holy ground.
Thus when the day came to say goodbye to our old trees, I stood barefoot in the backyard. In the novel Atlas Shrugged, Eddie describes his impression of a large tree on the Taggart estate. He imagines that if a giant pulled it up, it would swing the Earth around. For some reason, I thought our trees’ roots were be similarly imbedded. I anticipated shrieks and groans as they were pulled protesting from the ground.
Instead, they sort of plopped over with one tug. I guess they were tired.
Daily Prompt: Blossom