Wrong Season

By the old milkhouse we have a prolific crabapple. Every year a few of its buds bloom in the fall.

Each hapless flower is a defiance, no mild acceding to inevitable winter. We smile seeing in each one an impudent opening of hope. All good stories have a doomed protagonist.

Dave Perozzi

Dave Perozzi

5 thoughts on “Wrong Season”

  1. Hope – a solid foundation for the farming life. Especially during heavy winds and the coming of Winter. Be well!

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