“That which is possible.”
I live in an orchard. When I first bought the land I didn’t know there was an orchard. Honestly. I was intent on making the old farm house livable and I didn’t get to explore the acres for some time. And truth be told, it was probably the sheep and goats who brought the orchard back to life and made me take notice. Nonetheless, over the years I have come to measure the seasons by the fragrances and bounty or lack thereof.
Last spring began much as this one, the apple blossoms graced the trees and the air was prolific with their sweetness, but a late May frost came and decimated the flowers before they could transform into their sweet fruit. So I have waited to see what the orchard would give us this year and I am very happy to see the fruit ripening despite cooler temps and much rain.
Every morning, as I open my eyes, this is my first glance of the day through my window. And today, I thought about “potential”.
I thought about potential as I moved manure. I thought about potential as I tilled a field for indigenous corn. I thought about potential as I reckoned with this being the last day of my 61st year…and I realized how in so many ways I am just beginning.
Potential. The ability for the orchard to roar back after last year’s defeat. Potential. The seeds are making their way through the soil and hopefully their fruit will make their way to mine or another’s table…Potential. What can be. What lies within waiting to be tapped. Waiting to be fostered. Waiting to be supported. Waiting to be loved.
We are all, my friends, little balls of potential. Take care. Plant wisely. Choose good soil. Nurture with the water of kindness. And don’t forget the manure. Sometimes it takes a loss to see the gift of what you have. I missed the apples last year, and this year looks like we will be working overtime to tend to them. Potential.
Life is full of sweet surprises, look for them and be amazed.