Nature’s Pace

Grandpa had a small orchard that by the time I came along was mostly ignored, except for us kids.  To us it was a place to climb trees, hide in the orchard grass, escape the heat of summer days, and of course, eat green apples.  There were two plum trees that still produced regularly. My mother would use the plums to stretch the raspberry jam without impairing the incomparable taste of the raspberries too much.  There were about half a dozen apple trees that had been left to fare for themselves.  The fragrance of those apple blossoms in the spring was heaven to me.  The trees were covered with those gorgeous white blossoms that attracted innumerable bees that were so busy they paid no attention to me.  The trees were overgrown and hadn’t been pruned for a very long time.  I’m sure they were much more productive before I entered the scene.  But during my time in the orchard, they only produced small, wormy apples.  When the apples began to get the size of golf balls we began to eat them, though obviously not for their sweetness.  Eating green apples was something we just did.  But I knew in my heart of hearts that if I could just wait for summer to pass, autumn would bring much sweeter and somewhat larger apples.  The problem was the waiting.  For a child, waiting is the most irksome of tasks.  When I was young, and even during my teenage years, it seemed like it took forever for summer to come and go.  So while we waited, and because we couldn’t wait, we ate green apples, contorting our faces involuntarily in response to the sourness.  We also dealt with the occasional upset stomach.  Now that I’m in the autumn of my life and am able to savor the sweetness and value of metaphorically  waiting for the apples to ripen, I have learned that some things are simply worth the wait.  Patience is a lost virtue.   It can only be developed one way, and it requires a price.  To the wise, the price is worth it.  It’s the wait that makes the apples so sweet.  Nature’s pace is incredibly instructive.