Howard

This is Howard, the apple tree. When we bought this place in the summer of 1987, the owners, Howard and Helen, told us the two apple trees in the front yard were, in fact, named Howard and Helen.

Fast forward to today. Howard is now a gnarly, unproductive old tree. Half of it broke off in an ice storm a couple/three years ago. It doesn’t produce an apple one. Here lies the rub; because it is an ugly, unproductive tree, Tom prods me every year to cut it down.

I can’t. I keep remembering Howard telling me way back in the day about the two trees. Today, I imagine the spirits of Howard and Helen, up in their trees, Howard with a Buckmeister beer in the summer, a cheap rot gut whiskey in hand in the winter. Some day, probably sooner rather than later, both trees will go down.

I agree, it’s an ugly old tree. But to cut it down would be to flaunt karma, and, I don’t know, just the history of the this place. You know...Howard.

So tomorrow, I will prune Howard, although I know it will not produce a single apple. That’s ok. Sometimes it’s more than that.