The Freeze

My god, it’s chilly here. You feeling this?

BRRR! What’s up with this weather? My leaves are chattering. It’s April for pete’s sake. It’s not supposed to be this cold.

I dunno, but I’m starting to shrivel and that scares me. I haven’t felt this way since 2019. Remember when it frosted just as we were showing our greenery? Ten minutes was all it took, and that was the end of it for me.

Me, too. Not a single surviving leaf that year. I wasn’t sure I’d make it myself. Nothing wanted to grow. Must’ve cried for weeks.

Yeah. Who could forget. Remember our human? She was crying when she came to check on us. Thanks to the Goddess of Flora that our roots stayed warm and here we are again, about to produce. But damn! We’re gonna be screwed this year, too, if something doesn’t change in the next hour. DAMN!

April 11

The night chill continued, the air temperature dropped to thirty degrees, and in the morning the two fig trees and their owner felt the loss, grieving even while grateful there would be a next year with another chance to rejoice an abundance of fruit that would ripen to its full sweet juiciness.

April 29

[This little story emerged during a recent online writing class with Mark Rashid. Check his website and Facebook page for future writing and other classes.]