Wednesday, 3 June 2026

Cherry tree

 

Cherry tree

                                                    April blossom


We have a cherry tree in the garden which was heavy with blossom in early spring and is now full of ripening cherries. I looked at it yesterday to see if there were any ready to be picked. There were a few near the top of the 12’ tree that looked ripe, but none closer to hand.

This morning, I watched a large magpie fly into the tree and a few moments later it flew out with a cherry in its beak. I was immeasurably delighted to see that. One of the purposes of growing fruit in the garden is to encourage wildlife. There’s enough for all to share. I have not seen it return, though I haven’t sat with my eyes fixed on the garden all day.

I was reminded of Robert Herrick’s poem, Cherry Ripe, which of course led me to start singing the song. 🎜🎝

Cherry-ripe, ripe, ripe, I cry,
Full and fair ones; come and buy.
If so be you ask me where
They do grow, I answer: There,
Where my Julia’s lips do smile;
There’s the land, or cherry-isle,
Whose plantations fully show
All the year where cherries grow.

Robert Herrick was born in 1591 in London and became a poet and an Anglican priest. He wrote more than 2,500 poems, and although he never married, much of his earlier work is centred on love and women. His poetry often refers to the fleeting nature of life and the necessity to make the most of it.

One of his oft-quoted poems, ‘To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time,’ has the opening lines:

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today,
Tomorrow will be dying.

 

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