'A Morning in the Orchard'

On our farm we have a beautiful secluded paddock that is home to a miniature fruit orchard. It was once teaming with lines of crooked apple trees, their branches bowing under the weight of clusters of crisp crunchy apples. Now, all that remains are a handful of apple trees, blackcurrants bushes, a redcurrant bush and a tall elegant plum tree. It’s my plan to start planting more fruit trees, and fill the orchard once more, so it can transform into a productive kitchen garden.

The blackcurrants and redcurrants have been gleaned of their glistening fruits; made into pots of jam and preserves. The time has now come to start picking the plums before insects and birds plunder them all for themselves. Myself and Miley (I couldn’t do the job without him of course) filled up our bowl with the nearly ripened fruit. I like to pick them a little green, and allow them to ripen further in the kitchen so they don’t fall victim to the late August plight of wasps burrowing into the plums and stealing their sugary sweetness. Unfortunately for Miley being small and fluffy, and seemingly devoid of a bone structure, he had one or two plums fall on his head from above, and was not one bit happy about it. However, he was right as rain after some cuddles and a handful of kibble.