So, this is what you do. Plant a cherry tree. Leave it or fifty years. Over time, it is fifty feet high, and her daughters have formed a grove, around her. They are sour. She is sweet. Have a look.
Last year, after discussions, I left a fifty-foot tall centre for the birds, brought the rest of the tree down to a height that could be reached by a human on the back of a pickup truck, and left to see what the tree did. Well, she accepted it without a complaint, so this year, after more discussions, I brought her daughters down in height, effectively making a single tree of the grove. The lovely thing is that over all these years, birds contributed hazels to the mix, so in this tree’s heart there is a nut. No, not me, blush, but a hazel grove!
It’s like a cherry pit surrounded by cherries, both sweet and sour, for eating and pies, and then winter nuts, too. Initiated by a human planting and then finished by tree and birds. How grand!