I’ve never had fruit trees before.
Last fall, when we were looking to buy the property that became StarField Farm, the sellers pointed out the three peach trees that were planted along the driveway. When we took ownership in January, all the trees were dormant, the plants buried beneath the snow.
We had no idea what would emerge in the spring and summer.
Now we know.
The peach trees were amazingly prolific this year, after last years terrible weather resulted in an absence of all stone fruit north of New Jersey. There were no local peaches last year. Not one.
I was ridiculously upset earlier in the spring when I culled about a third of the very small, “proto-peaches” off the trees. It pained me to throw away what I knew would be good fruit. But the health of the tree and the ultimate quality of the peaches depended on it.
Honestly? I could have culled up to half the peaches and still had too many to handle. I suspect I’ll easily have 4 boxes full. Maybe 60 lbs or more.
I’m glad I removed the fruit that I did. As it is, the branches are heavily laden and nearly touching the ground.
Perhaps it is what isn’t there that ends up being the most important.
Edited fiction is often more powerful for what is removed, distilled, and concentrated.
Negative space is vital for artwork.
Ceramic pieces are balanced and shaped through the trimming process.
There’s probably a metaphor in there for life, but I’m too tired to find it right now. Something about the silence and stillness between thoughts – that pause which makes room for gratitude and grace.
I am grateful for this place. For its peace and for its bounty. I am grateful for the home it will become and the place of creativity we will create here.
The construction is also something new to us, along with the peach trees, the apple trees, the concord grapes, and the asparagus.
I am in awe of the building process. A few weeks ago, this was a hole in the earth. Now, it is a recognizable structure. It is both going faster and slower than I had anticipated. I keep imagining what it will be like when the addition is complete and they break through the dining room to join the old house with the new.
I know we will marvel at the house as much as we marvel at the fruit trees. And we will measure this harvest in years of joy and laughter.