I take short drives when I'm not feeling happy. I roam around my old neighbourhood and to my childhood home. My mum planted the Rose Apple tree in 1995, marking its 22nd year today. We didn't take care of it, and it was hardly watered. Despite the neglect, it grew tall and strong and was fruitful every summer. During windy weather, hundreds of Rose Apples fell onto the ground and covered our yard like a pretty pink duvet. I never ate the apples, but my neighbour did, and he told me they were bland.
Recently, I asked the resident if I could transplant it to my backyard. He told me he was only renting and that I had to seek the owner's permission. I've dreamed of building a treehouse someday, and this tree might be a good foundation for it. It would be nice to grow a piece of history in my garden.