Pictures of other people’s precious babies, grandchildren, and pets sometimes require the polite dodge, “Now THAT’S a baby” (or “THAT’S a Portuguese Water Dog”, as the situation requires).
I realize this baby tree is not a beauty, taken just as it is, with its little plastic bark protector. If anything is appealing about our new tree’s looks, it may be that gangly, angly coltishness so beloved in the Bluegrass. Plus – it has a twin – fraternal, I do believe.
Our first Montmorency Cherry trees came to live with us this week. My live-in gardener, aka best man, planted two of these babies. They represent our first step in converting some of our ornamental flower beds to edible plantings.
I don’t expect others to see how special and beautiful our babies are. I look at them through the eyes of love, dreaming of how they will grow up and help support me when I am (really) old.
To be honest, my eyes of love peer through cherry-tinted glasses mounted in a pie-shaped lens. You may see brown sticks sporting a few little reddish bumps. I see my favorite fruit pie, perhaps my favorite dessert in the world, putting down roots on the east side of our house.
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