This is our cherry tree, our single pride and joy in the garden. On Black Saturday, that terrible day, it was burned across the canopy by the sun’s rays; testament to the heat which triggered the catastrophic bushfires. As you can see underneath, our azaleas are almost dead, too. The azaleas that aren’t in the photo have definitely died.
Yet, the cherry tree hasn’t given up. It will go on. New shoots come through where the old will soon fall in the natural occasion, and castings, of autumn. I feel relieved. Solaced.
And thankful.
