A small tree suddenly appeared in the front garden two or three years ago. Nothing unusual because we are continually having to pull out trees grown from seeds carried by birds or fallen from our trees. This one appeared amongst shrubbery so it could have been there longer without me noticing until white flowers appeared two years ago. Last year it had grown considerably and I found a few small plum-like fruit on it. I looked the fruit up in a gardening book. It seems they are cherry plums. I wondered if it had grown from a runner from a nearby grafted cherry tree (the grafted on part is an ornamental cherry but the stock is likely a strong variety not grown for flowers) As I said, this tree has masses of small white flowers in early spring, just like the damsons growing wild in hedgerows. Now matter how it got there, I decided to keep it. I like having blossoms in early spring. It has rewarded me with a kilogram of fruit. I'll give it a bit of pruning and maybe next year...
In my mind I saw a kind of parable. How easily we push aside talent. Talent which, if nurtured, could bring forth that which could give pleasure to many. (I have in mind publishers and art critics/dealers. But it applies to businesses too.)
Magpies Nest Publishing has been brought up to date with my latest novels.
See Wrinkly Writers for a spooky picture of a cat
See Writing For Joy
My Space to hear Ann sing (Any Dream Will Do) while the photo carousel turns. And read a few posts there. (mostly my poems and short stories)
