Plums 3

The plum I grow in my garden tastes better than any other plum, be it from the grocery store, a farmer's market, or even a neighbor's yard. This is my very own plum. I made it. Like a cake, only it took longer.

My father didn't take much interest in gardening. Perhaps he'd spent too much time on farms as a kid and didn't want to do physical labor anymore. Or maybe he'd worked so hard for his advanced degrees that he no longer enjoyed non-academic pursuits. My mother liked gardening and loved fresh vegetables, but thank goodness our next door neighbor was generous because his garden was much more bountiful than ours.

I'm the kind of gardener my mother was: not brilliant, but not bad. I grow a few things. We will have tomatoes this year, and maybe something else. I'm still weeding, so no guarantees. But I begin to see why Mother persisted, even though our neighbor was happy to share. There's something primal about growing it yourself.

This year's first two plum phases are past (1: blossoms, 2: green fruit). Phase 3 is the red and ready-to-pick part. Every day now our little tree offers up at least one ripe, little plum.

Phase 4: savor.

Plums

A little over a year ago, John and I planted a plum tree in the back yard. Soon it flowered, and before we knew it we had two plums hanging from the branches. I thought that was pretty good for a brand new tree.

I watched the plums grow from little green balls to more purplish, more plum-ish.

Then one day, the plums were gone. Remnants of their carcasses lay on the ground at the foot of the tree. Birds? Squirrels? I don't know.

But it's not going to happen this year.