|Mayor in Flowers. Note the <ahem> |
appendages. Someone favour hunting?
Which I, accidentally, ate.
Luckily for me so did the French bloke standing next to me. We both pulled faces worthy of an Edvard Munch painting and fell about laughing. Schadenfreude isn’t always justified but I think it was sufficiently mutual to not count against my karma this time!
I woke up later that night from a deep sleep, dreaming I was being shaken from my bed. As I woke I realised it wasn’t a dream and I was actually being shaken. Puzzled, I looked around the room to no avail. The following morning the news proclaimed France’s biggest earthquake in sixty years, 4.9 on the Richter Scale. I felt a bit cheated having spent aaaages in New Zealand, one of the most seismically active countries on the planet, and having felt not even the teeniest tremble; and then to be shaken from my bed in an old French house below a huge cliff strewn with massive boulders, well....
|Sharons in the snow back in Jan|
So under the watchful expert eye of C I began cutting away all this spindly leafy growth, to expose what was left of the structure of the trees and give the fruiting wood some space.
They look tonnes better but I know it will be a fight. It takes time for trees to recover from that kind of shock. I’ll be up a ladder in May rubbing out the buds of those pesky teenagers as they try to regain lost ground, but it’ll be worth it in the autumn - when with any luck the display of big, gaudy, waxy, bright orange fruits (true ‘Sharons’ of the fruit world) will be even better than last year’s. Wish me luck....
|Before. Persimmon/sharon fruits to the left.|
|Better pic to follow!|