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Greengage blossom
The house hides its face behind a lacy fan of greengage blossom.
This tree, which bears small green greengages, is covered in flowers while the one that has larger, juicier yellow greengages has hardly any blossom at all.
Misty orchard
The rain had just stopped and suddenly a mist rolled up like smoke through the orchard.
The photo shows it beginning to clear.
Down to earth

An earthy moment
The sun was setting today when I went out to photograph the fairy-tale blossom of almond, apricot, nectarine, peach and plum.
The picture shows the dragon’s blood plum.
Lost in contemplation of its beautifully arching boughs along which flowers are opening like a tide of foam, I suddenly realised Galileo had entered the shot.
Fruit tree trunks – in this case a fig tree sucker – serve only one purpose as far as he’s concerned.
Taylor, further on, is more decorous on this occasion.
Exercise in futility?
This is the every-other-year apricot tree in full blossom regalia, exuding a delicious blossomy scent.
I took the photo just before it was subjected to vicious wind and driving rain.
The bumblebees, which seem to be primary pollinators, will be tucked up in their nests. Even without being un-aerodynamic they wouldn’t stand a chance, so I hope we get some still and sunny days soon.
I’ve almost finished pruning the fruit trees – just a few exotics to go: a jujube tree which has only fruited once, a persimmon tree, two bushes, and some plum ‘scrub’ across the front edge by the house.
Then it’s on to the roses and the buddleias!
Clive sat on a bench by the patio door while I was at it today – his first time properly out of doors. I realised afterwards his view of what I was up to was partly blocked by the wall. The idea had been for us to keep each other company, but for much of the time all he could see was branches and twigs mysteriously toppling!
Manypeeplia
Today we had visits from a couple of technicians to put right the various problems with the equipment.
A female rehabilitation doctor also arrived with a massive entourage. They crowded in the doorway, too many to count, and since Clive always moves like an orang-utan from hand-hold to hand-hold under his own steam, he could see little point in their presence and asked that they wait outside.
Which they did, chatting and smoking, thick on the ground as the buds in the photo.
Only one gorilla-like male came in, once, to move our own pole which Clive needed to raise himself from the sofa – where he’d taken refuge late last night after the bed finally gave up the ghost.
Three greengages
A combination of wet weather when the blossom was out, and general reluctance on the part of the tree, means that we have only 3 greengages.
I invented this little ditty to sum up the situation:
“Greengage, greengage, have you any fruit?”
“Yes, Ma’am, three, but they’re not for you.
One for the blackbird and one for the jay,
And one for the little bug that crawled in today.”
We’ve had good crops of apricots, nectarines and peaches this year, and hopefully will of pears, but apples and plums are a dismal failure.
May
Yesterday, May Day, was a public holiday here like in many other places.
Unlike Britain, which tucks it neatly onto a Monday, in Italy it falls as it falls; if on a Saturday or a Sunday – too bad.
I thought I would take a photo of this appositely named blossom, spreading its petals wide in the sunshine.
Just as well I took it when I did because the weather turned wet soon after.
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