When I pruned these trees, the wind was kaboodling down the Similkameen Valley like a grizzly bear made of dry ice. Sawdust was falling in my face from my saw. My feet were made of frozen nitrogen. And, yes, I was having fun shaping the year we are now in. But now, whoa! What have I done! Who expected such good weather at blossom time!

That, my good friends, is too many cherries. They will be small. Pour the water on! I told the farmer. Keep those cells multiplying! Still…

…if you are reading this and are a robin or a starling, yes, you can start rejoicing. It is going to be a sticky feast!