When Do The Flowers Go?

It’s not that I ignore the basic life principles but every year in October I always watch in awe as the pears are on the tree one day and gone the next. I have never made a mystery of my dislike of spring summer in favour of autumn winter but there is one spring phenomena that always fascinates me, because it reminds me of watching pears fall in October and wondering where the hell they have all gone one week later.

And that’s the flowers on the trees, all pink, cream, white, candy-flossed, frothed up one day and gone the next, with only a shower of petals in between. Sometimes I even miss that because, really, unless I am sitting outside waiting for the wind to take them away, the flowers always seem to have a knack to perform their disappearing act when I am not watching.



Only two weeks ago the cherry tree was all little soft creamy stars on thin wicks. I snapped a few branches and took them in the house. Now I don’t know what happened; no, of course I do know what happened, it’s when it happened that eludes me. It’s all droopy new leaves, not a flower or petal in sight, same with the apple tree and same with the pear tree. And I suppose that’s the end of the spring fascination insofar as I am concerned.