All the love you will ever feel
you have always carried within you
The pellet you think love is
blooms into stone,
into flame, into glass
~Hannah Stephenson from “Sap Season”
The last remaining cherry tree on this farm, a Royal Anne, has stood between house and barn for over ninety years, bearing well some years, and other years yielding only a hand full of fruit. This spring was a bumper crop but followed by a hot dry summer, the old tree looks stressed, its branch joints oozing resin in response. These amber-like secretions are hard and glass-like but change subtly day by day.
It is this tree’s troubles made manifest. Its sap blood bursts with crystalline flame, blooming with a hidden love from its buried roots. Such love has always been there, deep inside, but in its thirsty anguish, the tree weeps to reflect the sun.