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Saturday, April 25, 2015

Quiet Life

Every now and then (okay, if I'm going to be honest it's way more than just every now and then) I go through a period of just not having much to say. Like recently, as Hubby and I were making a run to the big home improvement store for more top soil to dump into the two new veggie boxes, and Hubby says something like, "You really got to stop talking so much." I've been teased by others through the years over my tendency to just sit and listen. I truly don't feel the need to say anything, adding yet more noise to the cacophony that already exists. I am completely happy as well as comfortable with silence. Which is why I've not written anything during the last month. I've been enjoying my quiet life.

Along with the quiet, I've been enjoying watching my apple trees leaf out, the blooms opening little by little each day. The winter of 2014 was bitterly cold and snowy, leaving nothing for the rabbits to eat, so they ate the bark off my fruit trees. Two of the apple trees didn't make it, so I replaced them, and this past winter I anticipated the rabbits, being sure to wrap the trunks to keep the rabbits from nibbling away.  I'm hoping, given all the beautiful blooms, that I'm able to pick some apples this year.

This past winter wasn't as cold or snowy as that of 2014, and spring seemed to arrive exactly when needed to make sure all the flowering trees could show off just how beautiful they are. Not only did the apple trees burst with blooms, but so did our sour cherry tree. I've never seen it covered with flowers the way it was this spring.
I picked so many cherries last summer, but if the blossoms are any indication, I'll have even more this summer. Just thinking about the cherry jam I made last summer makes my mouth water. Of all the jams I made, the cherry jam was the biggest hit. Funny Delightful Son and Angel Baby ate it straight out of the jar. Both were quite sad over what we thought was the last of the cherry jam. When I found a jar hidden at the back of the cupboard and pulled it out, both boys descended upon me like vultures, both trying to get the jar before the other. I'm definitely going to have to make double the amount this summer.

Each day I go out to check on the trees, to watch the process of the blossoms. I watch the bees drift from one bloom to the next, which makes me hopeful that not only will the trees produce fruit but that the bees are getting the much needed pollen for their stores. Being able to help the bees even just this tiny bit makes me happy. I've read so much about bees, the work some are doing to make sure bees thrive, and while I wasn't successful with my first colony, I've learned a lot and hope to have better luck with my new colony. The day I brought them home, put them in the hive, then sat and watched the few that didn't make it inside the closed-up hive, I felt such joy over having bees once again flying about. The sadness I'd experienced over losing my first colony had sunk in pretty deep, more than I'd realized. I still feel vestiges of that sadness every now and then, when I think about opening the hive to find every bee dead, but seeing the new colony at work now helps assuage that sadness.


Each day, evidence of spring becomes clearer. Lawns along our street are vivid green. The lilacs are blooming, filling the air with the perfume from my childhood. And the dandelions! I hope every single moment that my neighbors see the bright yellow flowers and love them as much as I do, leaving them not only to brighten our days but to also help the bees add to their stores. So much life happening right now. So much to watch. Listen to. No need for noise.