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3]
opulence there indeed has been
given to them the favor of the
Gods, for an apple-tree in itself
holds all the sharp, throbbing
ecstatic aches of growth: it is
packed with experiences. It whitens
in spring, reddens on summer –
turns naked in autumn, and
gust-wracked in winter; the rain
beats upon it, it proves its relationship
to us and therefore to the robust
and whirling drama of life. “Are
there wars and rumors of wars?”
said the orchard to me “They shall
cease. Are you young? You shall
grow old. Are you sad. distracted,
hurrying each and west at the beck