Pruning the apple tree, I carried the clippings to a bin, and got a close smell of them. It was apples. It was the way good apples smell compounded with the smell of new leaves. If I could have gotten that scent into a bottle, I would’ve. I now vow the yard will never be without an apple tree, and I will happily put myself in charge of pruning. This little tree has 6 varieties of apple—6 grafted branches: Red Mackintosh, Golden Delicious, Gravenstein (which is included because it blooms slightly first, and the bees will carry its pollen to the other branches), Transparent Yellow, Fuji, and Gala. It’s a wonderful tree, and becoming a favorite. Of course Washington is a pretty good place for apple trees, but apple trees grow nationwide, are hardy beyond belief, and if you have to figure what fruit tree to plant, this is not a bad choice at all.

The pond has developed a new algae. Lucky us. I’m going to do a water change today, though I hadn’t wanted to because of the temperatures, but this stuff is disgusting and I don’t want to let it proliferate.

And the writing is going well. Nothing like a rolling rewrite to recover your focus. It’s like trying to do patterns on a tapestry: sometimes you need to back off and view the whole thing to see how they relate and how you can make it better.