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The Fruit of the Orchard

In winter, these trees are not dead. their strength lies buried, ready to burst through when next needed, like humans in the face of disaster who rely on spirit to transcend material barriers and weakness to make the transition from this world to the spirit world across our artificial divide. in spring, the earth moves below. Nutrients flow into underground water to be leached by root hairs into the trunks of the apple trees which bring them up through heartwood to the baby-like hunger of the branches. the sun delivers its warmth and energy while the moon pulls the water forth. Buds explode into flowers that bees visit to suck sweet flowing nectar back to their queen in the hive. Flowers become small apples in this season of tectonic rebirth. in summer, the Orchard man steps forth more strongly. Like a general, he summons his wife and sons for their wise counsel, in-gathers family and friends, marshals tractors, machinery and tools. also like a general, he feels the enemy's approach long before the dust appears on the horizon. he works to prepare for the opening skirmishes while dreading the battles that follow. He squints at the sky and knows it is time. he musters his people, machines and knowledge

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to fight off the most ancient enemies of man: drought, pestilence, disease, insects, ignorance. The Orchard man has seen the fury of war in the Pacific in world War II as a marine. He knows this will be like al the other wars, and, therefore, fears the expected surprise. Too much water, too little water, Too much sun, not enough sun, insects and brown rot, hailstorms and lightning, floods and drought nature's arsenal is endless. He looks at the sky again and curses the weather. he stands alone and shakes a fist at cloudless sky. In fall, each row a cathedral of trees gleams light; light of pink flowing through the rose windows of the golden delicious apple trees, bowed branch nave to the altar the trees yield their fruit the way God gives us children by the unity of seed, spirit, and organic material blending over myriad and passing seasons, through storms that assault and cleanse: and animals that eat buds and branches until the fall comes and the trees form this cathedral of blinding light and these trees are alive, these trees want to be handled tenderly, these trees demands careful, loving, selfish love before they yield their fruit. The hands that love these trees know how to stroke each twig and branch tenderly so as to yield all its fruit until the storage bins are heavy and full and luscious with sweet fruit, and the full harvest brings full measure.

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In Harvest, the feast is set before the Orchard family's spare table. The families of apples' dance a ballet of sweet nourishment: applesauce sweet rich from the goldens and johnnies and grannies fills the bowl. Honey-colored apple juice is poured. The new baby is fed diced Yorks. Cinnamon and sugar explode on her tongue and the fruits of labor, human and divine, in that very feeding from father to daughter and from mother to son, ensure again, the continuances of the eternal plan.