life, trees, story, nature, adsactly

ADSactly Inspiration: The Truth from the Trees

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Growing up in the lush green countryside of West Sussex, England a small orchard in a house at the top of a hill that overlooked the village church in the distance became part of my life.

The small orchard in the garden of what to a girl of 13 seemed like a mansion had a variety of apple trees as well as a pear tree. On the edge of the orchard, branching out over a rickety old bench as a golden Russet tree, a tree that produced the oddest looking fruit that resembled the colour more of a kiwi fruit than an apple.

This tree would teach the lesson of patience and of picking low hanging fruit in life.

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It was winter, the garden had a layer of frost and it was a typical winter’s day. The summer had been and gone and as a garden girl I looked around and felt lost as there were no lawns to mow, no roses to pick and none of the usual garden tasks I had become adept at and so enjoyed.

Staring at me was a small forest of twiggy apple and pear trees that in summer and autumn had born some of sweetest apples I had ever tasted as well as some of the sourest Bramley cooking apples my mother so adored.

I was told to produce the fruit I had to prune; I had to cut back the dead wood to let new wood grow. I had no idea what this really meant, but I was also told that some trees, not least the beautiful Golden Russet sat away from the main orchard that unlike its cousins had not lost its leaves and had merely turned its leaves into the colour of its fruit, would need less pruning.

It was all new to me.

With shears in hand along with a trusty bow saw I made my way down to the garden, I had no idea what I was doing and no idea which tree was which, in summer I could tell because they all had their differing fruit but in winter they were just twigs.

From the window of the house the owner looked on, yes he was letting me learn by doing and I set to with my trusty tools.

I was nervous and was afraid I would damage the trees that only a few short weeks ago were producing sweet fruit, and I gingerly sawed through the twigs on the end of the tree. I was cutting off so little that the tree barely changes shape and yet it was taking what felt like forever.

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Working up a sweat doing working hard but achieving nothing I heard footsteps coming down the gravel path. I was certain I was doing something wrong and would be in trouble, and yes, I was doing something wrong.

In his green wellington boots, the owner of the house and a man who knew much about gardens, trees, life and business stood before me. I was doing something wrong but he was not angry, how could he be?

What I was doing wrong was merely out of a lack of knowledge mixed with a dose of fear. The owner laughed, took the saw from my hand and showed me, “Watch” he said.

Holding the saw firmly in his hand he grabbed one of the strongest branches, it was growing in a direction that would hinder other branches from producing fruit I was told.

To my astonishment, he began to saw, vigorously and intentionally and soon this large branch, almost as big as a tree, fell crashing to the ground. He then examined the tree, looked through the tangled nest of branches and grabbing another began to saw again.

In a matter of moments the tree had changed shape, it did perhaps look a little unhealthy but it would, I was told, now produce an abundance of fruit.

Stepping back from the tree I was told something that changed my life forever, a small thing about mighty trees that allows a human to stand firm in life, produce results and succeed.

Winter, I was told, is the time where a tree will show us its heart.

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The branches have few leaves and the direction of the branches and how they will continue to grow either helping or hindering the bearing for fruit can be clearly seen. This is the time where stopping and being deliberate can change an outcome.

Pruning can only take place when what needs to be pruned and what the pruning with harm or help can also be seen, winter is that time and in our lives, we will all have those winter times. We will have those days when all is a little colder, a little slower and a little messed up. It’s at this time we can perhaps see ourselves more clearly, re-evaluate our lives and let go if things or prune what we need to to help our own fruit-bearing success to happen. A humble apple tree will only give its master fruit if the master cuts back all that will prevent the tree from doing so.

But what about the lonely russet stood quietly sheltering the old bench?

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In a recent storm, it had been damaged, a branch was hanging dangerously and had no life in it. This sorry branch stood out among the still autumnal leafiness of the tree and it was this and only this that we pruned that year.

The Russet is an old lady; I learnt in later years that unlike her cousins she produces fruit that can only be plucked from the tree once almost ripe. The fruit gets heavy and droops, for this strong branches are needed, she will never produce the abundance that her cousins will but she is called a Golden Russet not just because of the colour of her fruit but the quality.

From this tree it is the low hanging fruit that must be taken if the best is to be had, let fall and it will rot and pick to early and it will be too hard and never get soft. The best in life in worth waiting for but to get the best you need not only patience but vigilance, another lesson taught by a humble tree.

Thoughts and observations from @hopehuggs