Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, German poet and author (1749-1832)
The pear tree blossoms gloriously and hope has me already tasting the summer fruit. Pears! Peaches! Cherries! Apples! I can't wait!
not here, they will never bloom here.
ReplyDeletepmc.