Took those pics on Monday? Tuesday? Anyway, earlier this week–and it was so cold and snowing that day.
East Tennessee could be such a great Fruit Tree Land, if it weren’t for, literally, about two weeks in March. Pretty much every year we have these blasts of really warm weather. Balmy, wonderful, weeks-long. All of the peach and plum and pear, and magnolia, etc think it’s spring for realz and they explode with blossoms.
Only to be deceived.
Because then deep dark skies, like slate, move back over the foothills and snow falls down, murdering the meek, naive blooms.
Some live, some die–their dead, droopy petals hanging on, brown, almost as if Autumn has come.
And the fruit of summer harvest is scant. We get our big, juicy peaches from neighboring Georgia, our strawberries from Florida. Even northern states send us their bounty–their plants were not tricked into an early spring, see.
Just an oddity of here. All the trees, a small fraction of potential harvest.
Every once in a while, though…every loooooong once in a while, spring comes and holds. And those infrequent years find women canning preserves and pie fillings and jams until their fingers ache. County fairs at Labor Day have three times the entries in the Canned Goods category, and, man, to be a judge!
But not this year.
Not this year.