Arboreal adolescence

Back ten years or so we planted a rowan berry, to see how it turned out. Mrs Oons' green fingers gave it a very big pot, compost and a good soak, left it out in the rain, and more or less left it alone. It germinated. It grew. It got to be taller than me. But never did it flower.

Six weeks back we planted it at the refurb house, in proper ground for the first time in its little life. We fed it and watered it. It sat there. Next door's rowan made blossom. Ours sat there. I asked it, what's going on? "I'm making roots" it said, "I've never had the space before".

Four weeks ago, it made buds. Did they open? Did they heck! Every morning I whispered to it, sang to it, stroked it, cast spells. Did they open? Heck as like!

TODAY, IN ONE SET OF BUDS, WE HAVE PETALS!   Is this tree puberty? At any rate, now it will keep the witches away.