Today I looked out into the garden and observed the bare limbs of my plum trees and peach trees. This Spring could mark the very spring when blossoms finally appear, when plums finally grow. At year three, I start to hope. But it’s not the kind of hope that disappoints if nothing happens. It’s the kind of patient hope that knows there’s always another spring, and another, and another. Growing fruit trees from seed taught me this. I might wait 10 years.

Growing things that take years and years is good for the soul.

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