and white petals that delights passers-by. And I, too, breathing deeply 

 of their fragrance, am delighted. 



When the petals fall to the ground, I see them as a spring shower of 

 apple blossoms. In the fall this fall the fruit will hang from the 

 tree's boughs, and during the night ripe red apples will drop onto the 

 grass and flowers. The apples may be sour to my taste, but rabbits and 

 squirrels will relish them. 



Trees are like people they grow old. My old apple tree has lost 

 some of its bark and limbs, yet it offers a haven to all the creatures that 

 choose to live there. 



I could have said to the man with the axe, "My special apple tree 

 is more than just an apple tree, going through its cycle of foliating, 

 flowering, fruiting and fading each year. It is the center of a whole 

 community of living things. In it, and on it, and over it, under it and 

 around it, life unfolds in wonderful ways." 



And I could have added, "You cannot see much with one quick 

 glance. But if you'll come and look at this tree for a whole year, day 

 after day, month after month, season after season, as I do, then you'll 

 see all the rich things I see." 



You who read this book need not take a year. This is your invitation 

 to share the life of my Apple Tree Community as I saw, photographed, 

 and recorded it. 



Summer 



