They survived!
All through this long winter I have been watching them. For each day more embedded in the snow. The three cherry trees I planted last fall. The 20-year project trading my grandfather’s big worn out mountain ashes dying on me for something else.
They made me happy already in September, guarding my front yard to the west in suites so red they looked like bon fires in the fall dusk. So far so good! I had watered them every day up until the frost hit, as I was told. But how would the winter treat them?
My heart pounded with joy when I noticed the leaf bulbs. Yes, all three of them looked like they were preparing for the summer coming. And in about a week there were signs of flower bulbs!
One of the criteria for the tree I picked was pink flowers. I was dreaming about a sky of pink facing my fields in early summer. I realise now I was a bit optimistic when it came to the multitude, picturing the young trees covered already the first year. That didn’t happen. But there were definitely lovely pink flowers, I had picked the right tree!
A different criteria was green leaves. Ornamental trees most often come with red/brown leaves and those don’t attract me. I find them dark and they feel like fall to me. So green leaves were important as well.
The leaves and the flowers opened their bulbs pretty much at the same time. And didn’t the leaves look brownish? Hell, they did. I kind of tried to ignore it but after a couple of days the disappointment took it’s grip on me. All that research I did, was it in vane? Did I choose a cherry tree with brown leaves after all?! Do I have to learn to live with this fall feeling through my summers? Learn to like it?
Well, maybe not. Are they not slowly changing into green? I actually think they are. It looks like they are starting out brown/red, but as the leaves unfold they reveal a dark green costume. That would make me very happy!
Since two weeks now I (am getting helped) water them every day. They are really thirsty and it’s warm and dry out there, we haven’t had rain since…when? And the pros tell me I need to water them the first three years for the fine roots to develop before they can manage on their own. So, that’s my assignment.
The first mosquitoes are joining me in the light late May evening. I look at my trees. They survived the winter. The flowers are pink. And the leaves are patiently turning into something greenish. I think we will be happy together. A good match.
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