I took the header photo on March 11th, the last rays of sun over Shropshire-out-of-Wales, lighting up the first sprigs of cherry plum blossom. I have only recently identified this tree: Prunus cerasifera nigra – a native species that lives just over the hedge outside our kitchen window. Every day now, and especially when we sit down to eat, we are watching it with special attention. For it seems this tree, which I had started off disliking (for reasons explained below) has become a household treasure, albeit one ‘borrowed’ from the roadside verge next door.
When we planned the kitchen extension (to replace an ageing conservatory attached to our newly bought old house) we did not think too much about the view. The site was tight, constrained by planning regulations, conservation area considerations and an overgrown hedge (although it has been cut back), and so we assumed our new big window would mostly look out on sprawling holly and hawthorn.
But now we find we also have a tree-view. And though I’m not so keen on pink, I cannot deny its loveliness, and especially at sunset. For this was another unplanned aspect: the only possible position for the window meant it faces due west.
Two weeks ago the branches were still black and bare, a skeleton mesh against wintery skies. One week ago, with the sudden sunny spell, if we looked hard, we could spot tiny slivers of pink on breaking buds. This week we have the first blossom, a good two weeks later than last year, when our February 24th view through the landing window looked like this:
So much for all the talk of this spring being sooner and warmer etc etc than other springs. Not so in Bishop’s Castle. After the week of warmish weather, the polar vortex is now rolling out cold, cold air day after day, and the cherry plum’s impulse to flower feels arrested somehow. But then that’s alright. A slow flowering will be just fine.
*
Last spring, as the building work progressed we watched the blossom cloud give way to foliage production. Next we had a dense, dark, rustling canopy, the leaves almost black at first sight, and not very pleasing. When viewed from outside, the tree cast a pool of deep gloom over the garden steps which I found depressing. But then come August and the kitchen all but done, we found ourselves sitting down to supper with an unexpected light show.
*
Two months on – and another unexpected view – a November snowfall and an abstract work that made me think of Jackson Pollock’s Autumn Rhythm, which I think we once encountered in the New York Met, where we’d gone to escape an unanticipated May heatwave.
And so in our new home, with passing moments, hours, days, and months, (two years in August), we are coming to know our closest neighbour, the cherry plum. Its fruits are said to be edible and good for jam. I managed to discover a single one last year. It was deep red and round, bigger than a cherry, with a firm skin that seemed to scrunch when I bit into it. It had a sweet-and-sour taste that made me think of Chinese plum sauce. Back then I did not know about its eating potential, and anyway I think the tree has grown too tall for elder scrumping forays.
But never mind. It has anyway inspired me to think more kindly about our horrid hedge, and how to deal with some ugly gaps just beyond the window. I’ve discovered cherry plums are good for hedging so I’ve recently planted three white flowered saplings, hoping that (in the not too distant future?) the blossom will cheer both us and passing neighbours. And maybe there’ll be fruit too – for us and the birds.
There are other bonuses of course. When I was out on the far side of the hedge preparing the ground for planting, there was much chatting with locals who wanted to know what I was up to. And indeed, why I’d come to live in Bishop’s Castle, and where was I before. All good questions and a good start too to feeling, after a few unsettled years, that we’ve at last come home.
Lens-Artists: Life’s Changes This week Anne sets us a theme rich in possibility. Interpret it as you may, but first see her post for an inspiring tale of personal development.
This is such an interesting take on the challenge, and yet another good outcome of all that extension work.(My second attempt at posting a comment. WP insists, erroneously, that I am not signed in.)
You are so good at persisting, Margaret. What is going on with WP? Anyway, many thanks for your kind comment. We’re in the midst of decorating again! Making progress though.
I love apple blossoms. They need better light than we have, though we’ve take a few very old sickly trees down (we have a lot more to take down!) and there are places with sun if the ground will let us dig there. The trees all around make this both rooty, rocky, and very shady.
Your window is wonderful. Kind of like ours. The only issue is if you are trying to take pictures from there, it’s hard with all those trees. Sky shots are impossible from home. When we are elsewhere, I get my good pictures of sky.
Our weather is very like your. Those huge coast to coast storms here are turning into international storms as they speed across the Atlantic — and they move FAST. The winds have changed which I do not think has anything to do with us. We get fewer winds down from the arctic and more winds from California and other Pacific states. For us, the good news is that we also don’t get hurricanes (mostly) because they veer off towards Europe before they hit us. Hard to regret that.
Definitely good not to have hurricanes, methinks. We’ve had a lot of wind though, which is fed-up making. But this polar air is something else. Seems to seep into the bones. Had some sunshine too today, which does lift the spirits.
We’ve also had a very windy year. I don’t remember ever having this much wind that isn’t part of a bigger storm. I can always tell by the groaning of the oaks as they bend against the air. You seem to be getting the same weather. Maybe that is why we are New Vs. Old England?
Groaning oaks…brrrr. Too much Sleepy Hollow!
These are red oaks which are taller but slimmer than white or black oaks … and they groan loudly when wind hits them. You need some pretty hefty winds before they bend enough to start groaning, so I’m always grateful the groaning doesn’t end with an even louder crashing as a big tree tries to crush our house. It happens — more often then it would if it didn’t cost so much to take big trees down. Hoping we slide gently into spring and the wind blows in another direction.
Wishing you temperate breezes and less groaning.
Thanks. Sometimes, though I love the woods, those trees are a bit scary.
Lovely progression of the photographs of the tree, your acceptance of its changes through the year, your meanderings towards ‘home’. Just lovey, Tish. Much joy may you have there for many years!
(We are delayed here on the east coast by at least two weeks from last year. But last year was two weeks ‘early’. The cherry trees are in blossom on my city streets but not in the great parks where there is less warmth).
Many thanks, Sarah. So pleased you liked my meanderings. And thank you for those very good wishes.
Wow, love this. It is wonderful t discover with each passing season the beauty of your own home.
Many thanks, Teresa.
Sometime settling in just takes a while and looking at things from a different view point aids the process
Definitely it does, Beverly.
Beautiful, Tish
Thanks, Ian.
I’m just happy it’s been a good move, Tish. It’s a lovely village, but taking on a project always brings doubts, and you were so very attached to Much. Many glorious blossoms to come xx
Cheers, Jo. You know so well the doubts and pleasures of a major uprooting. We didn’t leave the country of course, although sometimes BC feels like a parallel universe (in a good, if slightly puzzling way).
You, your hedge and the cherry tree–what a story! I wish you many great cherries to eat or can and getting your hedge under YOUR control. I’m so glad you found your home.
Many thanks, Anne. And as ever, you put your finger right on it. Me getting some control of the hedge 🙂
Glad you won that battle!
Great photos. I love the snowy branches, et all.
Thank you, John.
Tish, what a story! I’m so glad you kept the tree and are enjoying its beauty.
Many thanks, Egidio.
A beautiful post with beautiful thoughts, Tish. So happy you love your new home and see it developing into something of your taste. Wish you many cherries and much jam…from one non-lover of pink to another! Your pictures are harmonious and wonderful, and I also use evening light and backlit for pink blossoms.
Great minds, A-C. Thank you for your v, appreciative comment.
♥
Tish, moving is always a mix of angst and anticipation. Your pink blossoms are beautiful.
Many thanks, John.
I’m not always a fan of pink flowers either (give me yellow roses any day!) but I can’t resist blossom and this tree looks wonderful, I would be very happy with it as part of my view! I’m glad it’s helping you to feel more settled in your new home too. I suspect all that building work has made it feel less like home up to now than it might have done, but with that behind you the sense of being at home should grow 🤗
Thanks for those wise words, Sarah. The moving in process did get prolonged. In fact still not quite ‘in’.
What a wonderfully colourful bonus to a very long, and occasionally arduous, renovation!!! 😀
It is a bonus, Widders. Thanks for popping by.
A wonderful post Tish, I just loved it. You took us right through your process of going from stranger to feeling at home and even becoming part of a community. All through a story about your tree. There seemed to me a book should be written, or at least a short story. Please do it and let me know if it gets published. I’m betting on yes.
Such encouraging words, Tina. Many thanks. I will certainly give then a good mulling over.
Lovely thoughts on your home Tish, and those blossoms are pure heaven.
They are very heartening on these chilly days. Thanks, Flavia.
The blossoms are great Tish, must be amazing to find what happens through the seasons.
Many thanks, Leanne. And yes learning our new place through the seasons is v. ‘grounding’ 🙂
A wonderful read with beautiful photos, Tish.
Many thanks, Sofia.
Your Jackson Pollock snow tree is a wonderfully arresting picture. Just so beautiful that it hardly looks real at all. It actually reminded me of some early Mondrians, when he was still painting trees. I think one is called ‘Grey Tree’ and another called ‘Apple Tree in Blossom’.
Thanks for the Mondrian pointer, James.
The Grey Tree is spot on: https://www.dreamstime.com/stock-image-mondrian-gray-tree-image24046891
Lovely writing Tish, you made the scene around your kitchen very easy to imagine, and I loved it, your tree in winter, in spring! And your taking root in your now not so new anymore surroundings.
Many thanks, Agnes.
Beautiful post.
And I like the way the pictures tell a story by itself.
Thank you for that very nice comment, rabirius.
I see you’re getting used to the new house. 👍🏻
Yes. We’re on the last lap of settling in 🙂
Mzuri sana. It takes a lot of work to adjust a house to one’s… own style. But then the results are always worth it…