So damp, so green-- and such a lie

The lushness of the grass, the trees, the hedges, even the weeds--it all belies the fact that there will be no fruit this year. Or little, luck-dependent, surprises amongst all this verdure. The snow we had late into the spring, when blossoms were settling and bees were busy, has frozen the crop before it ever really got started. 

On the news, the estimate is for 85% loss; no apple picking with families this year. So far, the strawberry crops at commercial farms are okay, but the early greens like spinach and so on were hit hard. I have some hope for blueberries. But not my own micro-orchard; the trees are lovely, full and rustling softly in the breeze, but unladen. I think there's maybe five cherries on the tree that, last year, gave a full crop of tart, red fruit. I won't bother netting the tree; the birds can have that scant bounty.

I had hopes for the apple trees, but I don't think it'll bear out. And the pears were in high blossom when it snowed and got so cold. 

I feel like the grasshopper; enjoying the lovely warmth, the bright greens, and all summer can offer-- but knowing that there will likely be nothing to sustain come fall. 

And it's still raining more than not, so the almost-electric green goes on.

Stay dry,

C