There is nothing like the attachment of an old plant, let alone an heirloom handed down three generations. One is willing to do anything, including the manly task of wielding a saw and pruning. It had to be done to my grandparent's plum tree, 40 to 50 years old, which precariously leaned from top-heaviness. I removed countless abundant branches, so many lost fruit. Very tragic, but not as tragic as possibly losing this beautiful tree.
Everything is abundant in the orchard, new life springing everywhere. It will be a great season, for we have had much rain. I've always liked rain, but I especially like it now that we're surrounded by plants. Plus, we don't want to water unless we have to!
This particular fig is very mystical indeed! I love it's contorted branches and it's silvery color. I think of Adam's loin cloth when I see these leaves. I grew up on these figs. There is literally no comparison to them anywhere.
These are the beautiful geraniums in from the neighbor's, sneaking into our space and welcomed so eagerly.
Finally, the peas you have been told about are documented. Somehow they disappeared after I took this.
A glorious colony of roses, yarrow, and some white flower, maybe a daisy. It is sweet. You can see my precious Sanguinea Brugmansia wedged in the middle, tiny, but soon to be big.
And finally a sweet smelling rose, as perfect as a catalogue photograph. June was "knocked down" by this. A good sign.
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