Apricot, dead, imagine

There is an apricot shaped hole in the garden tonight•

Those of you who have followed the progress around here over the years will be familiar with photographs of the apricot tree in blossom/ of the fruits of the tree• Tonight there is only a desiccated trunk - a stump of a skeleton of a tree•

For the past two seasons - 2004 and 2005 this beautiful tree has graced us with magnificent shows of blossom and huge crops of sweet fruits tasting of early sunshine• The first of the fruit trees to wear the mantle of spring/ she has signalled the end of winter for us• This spring though the cherry trees heralded spring for us - she was late/// we thought• The wild plum came into blossom - pink and fulsome - and still she showed us nothing - no buds / no leaf. Still// I had pruned her hard last October and so we waited. In vain it transpired/// no leaf bud// no flower blossom// no suckers even. Our hearts sank but still we waited on.

And all through summer we waited for signs of life that never came. She became more brittle, creaking in any wind• She began to rock in her root• Insects invaded her bark/// small boring things took up residence• And all the while she dried•

Today I took the saw to her/// carefully sawing through one of her three main boughs• Sawdust• No moisture.• No sap• Nothing to cling to the blade and hold it back from its fearsome duty• Dead• And now gone•

We shall miss her spring gown• We do not know what killed her• Perhaps she died of old age•

Unless someone wants some of her dried wood for turning she will feed our stove this winter• And her final legacy will be the wonderful scent of fruit wood burning• Earth to earth and ashes to ashes• The ashes will feed next years tomatoes and the circle will close•

There is an apricot shaped hole in our hearts tonight•