Blooming Metaphors
Dug up at the arse-end of autumn and transported from Grimauld Place to our new home in a wheelie bin strapped to the top of a Morris Traveller. Rather ignominious treatment for a little apple tree.
Re-planted by a woman who knows what she's doing, however ...
... and blessed by a wassailing ceremony and a visitation of jays ...
... and my grandmother's apple tree*, which never properly thrived in its former location, has not only survived the winter but is blossoming.
And how happy am I that every happening in my life handily serves as a metaphor for something else.
*grown from seed from the last apples gathered from my grandmother's garden, a couple of months after her death in 1991
Re-planted by a woman who knows what she's doing, however ... 
Ah! Wish I'd done that ...
ReplyDeleteI've been really lucky with it so far, I think. Must remember to water it through the summer!
DeleteEnjoyed this. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDelete