We have arrived at the last month of the year and meteorologically winter began on December 1st. Personally I admit to being a 'winter starts after the soltice' sort of girl and as I look at the garden it still feels like late autumn.
Quince Minor is now bereft of leaves. They have all fallen and the new buds for next year are forming well. I stand and look at them, inspecting, wondering: "which one of you holds the quince?" I whisper. Quince Minor stands resolutely silent, this is not a secret to be shared.
Quince Major stands tall. We both know the quince-competence is there and now we do not talk of 'if ' or 'when' but 'how many'. Quince Major's contention is that quality is more important than quantity and I agree, I do agree. We stand in silent discussion with each other. I do not want my wish for quinces to overwhelm Quince Major, I do not want to want too much; and yet, and yet.......
Quince Major really is getting quite tall and the singular quince produced this year was too high up for me to pick. I have secateurs in my pocket whilst we are talking and I am snipping off young branchlets that if left to grow will not aid the air circulation through the tree. I look up at the tallness and wonder if I could/should reshape the tree a little. Now is a good time to do it if I am going to.
So of course I did. I removed the tall branch in the hope it will concentrate efforts. I apologised to the tree as I always do when removing branches. "It's for your own good" seem hollow words but I hope they understand the intention is well meant.
As I walk away from Quince Major, the last leaf looks at me forlornly. This is not a tree that gives up to winter easily, it is not a tree that gives up. Spring will soon be with us and life will return. For now the quest for a quince slips into its winter retreat. Sleep well my trees, sleep well.
More followed trees can be found under the guardianship of Squirrelbasket
