Life
20 years ago, a master gardener took 100 cuttings from a rare citrus tree from my deceased parents’ yard. One survived by falling off the greenhouse table and discovered months after the 99 perished. That tree eventually lived at my house, barely surviving, never thriving, yet after many many many attempts she was grafted once, air layered twice. The graft lives at the Botanical Gardens at Stanford University, one air layer in a pot at my house in Santa Fe, NM, the other at a friend’s house in Ladera all producing fruit. She tastes like 7-Up (that’s another story for another time.) Today that one surviving cutting from 20 years ago was dug up and will live with me in Santa Fe, inside in winter outside in summer – if she survives the trip. My house of 30 years is sold, it will be torn down, two houses in its place, and I will begin a new chapter of my life with memories of days gone “bye.”
