Today, Saturday, started off rainy, but then the sun broke through and I decided to go to the nursery and buy a tree I’ve been wanting — an Eastern redbud. I drove home extremely carefully, trying not to let all the leaves blow off. (The only way I could fit it in the car was to have it hanging out the window.)
My redbud made it basically unscathed. And now the only issue is that even though it’s a spring-flowering tree, because nursery trees are usually ahead of schedule, it’s already leafed out — the blooming is over. I’ll plant it tomorrow, but the satisfaction will be mostly delayed until next spring. And, of course, it’s small. Tiny, frankly. I mean, this is a tree I can lift. Its trunk is less than an inch in diameter. Even in a year, it won’t be very impressive.
I’d much rather it bloom now and be tall now and be everything I dream about right now.
But the day will come when it’s tall and lush and gorgeous. It will be hard to remember when it was so insignificant. It’ll become an integral part of the landscape. And I’ll be glad I put in all the work, even though today it doesn’t look like much.
(Also, a bird pooped rather extravagantly on my windshield on the way home. Do with that what you will.)
*Hat tip to my dear old friend Scott Marlow of Rural Advancement Foundation International (RAFI) USA, who years ago gave me this classic and told me it was one of the best books he’d ever read about organizing.