When we bought our house in 1983, there was a wonderful apricot tree in the backyard. The neighbors all said it had been there as long as they could remember.
I love bottling apricots, making apricot nectar, and cooking up apricot jam. We were in heaven for a number of years with a plentiful crop and lots of delicious apricots to enjoy throughout the year.
And then one year, we came home from church and our tree had been stripped! We are not at all sure who did it - the tree was in back and fairly well hidden from the street. We suspected workmen who had been in the neighborhood and noticed the full branches. But we wondered how they knew that we would be gone for 3 hours on Sunday morning? Maybe someone who had observed that?
We never found out. And then one year, the tree simply didn't bear any fruit - nary a fruit. And then there started to be lean years. And leaner years. And finally the reality that the tree would no longer be bearing fruit.
We took the tree out - it was dying. I bought new tree - paid good money to get one with some growth. But it was not to be. Between a bear who whacked off some key branches and the deer who nibbled away at the new growth and the birds who pecked at the fruit that did manage to make it, there was not much left for us. I recall one year I picked a small bowlful of apricots - combined with a can of crushed pumpkin, I was able to make one batch of apricot-pineapple jam.
And oh, my, it was delicious. I was grateful for that little batch of jam.
And upon reflection, grateful for so many years of delicious fruit.
And grateful too for our wonderful sycamore tree in the front yard.
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