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.
5 thoughts on “Wrong Season”
Hope – a solid foundation for the farming life. Especially during heavy winds and the coming of Winter. Be well!
Thanks Phil. The other thing about hope is that it’s free. Everything else in farming is expensive. So we tend to cram in as much hope as we can.
Dave, thanks for not caving to the annoying marketers. Those tactics are predictable to educated consumers.
Is this yours ? It’s beautiful !
Yes, and thanks.