One of the best things about feeling fingertips on the keyboard again, other than hearing the clicking sound and giving it a good dusting, is the joy of taking time to be quiet with myself. On the one hand I suppose I can say something about life being full and overflowing, and not enough time to squeeze it all in; but the truth is more of a shameful reminder of how easy it is to get pulled from something I love to do and fill my time with less gratifying things.
The Artichoke continues to return from the hot unrelenting summer heat and in the late fall through early Spring produces long healthy fronds and *sometimes* beautiful artichokes to enjoy while the getting's good. It inspires me to do better.
The decade of deep drought is taking its toll. Like people, you can only guess what's going on inside.
We lost a pomegranate. Very randomly, she quit leafing last spring and no fruit came, but the little tree in the partial shade of the olive in back seems to have come into its own, and so we had juice and jam after all. A lovely old Halloween shaped Black Walnut that hugs the house has last year's leaves hanging ominously on its branches and we will know soon if they sound the death knoll for it.
So far, the Pines and Valley Oaks and Olives are standing tall. So far.
The old fig is in a new phase of its life, as a home for bugs. One brave branch remains, stretching upward, and 50 or more shoots coming up all around the tree to start again. Its bark is loose and perfect for the woodpeckers.
I'm half terrified about discovering the large wild fig along the northern edge of our yard facing the farmer's field. The outside freezer is already half full of figs that are outpacing our capacity to eat them and, with two harvests a season, we've got whole and chopped figs packaged for breads and cookies - pureed figs for leather and to be paired with chicken breasts - whole figs - fig sauce - and in the pantry, fig vodka, jams and preserves.Fig lovers, come on by!
