It's 85 degrees out and it's snowing. Flurries of white pear blossoms are swirling around my back yard. I hadn't thought about all those petals - what must become of them when they're no longer needed by the tree. Already done their job of attracting requisite insects and protecting stamens and pistils and all that. In the Bible it says we're supposed to bring forth our fruit with patience. I'm imagining how the tree must have felt in winter - stripped of fruit, then of leaves. And now, being stripped of its glory of blossoms. All in preparation for its main purpose - pears. Pears so large and heavy that when they fall, they can break the glass table underneath (which they did).
So, together, the tree and I (patiently) wait for pears. But meanwhile, I'm basking in the snow.
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