牛油果树被砍了(w English)

10／21／2018

 

秋天了，小院的清晨凉意阵阵。久坐院中，一件外套已经不能御寒。

 

当我眼睛从书本中抬起，一眼就瞥见那边墙角的牛油果树。昨日终于砍了它了，现在只剩下了光秃秃的杆子笔直地站在那里。

 

已经记不清是哪一年开始种下的，只记得是从一个吃完的牛油果核发的芽，随手埋在土里，根本没想过它会长那么高，快高过邻居家的二楼屋顶，繁茂的枝条伸展着、张扬着，打破了原本的和谐。虽然邻居并不曾抱怨过(当然，他们家的香蕉树不仅挡住了我的窗户, 叶子还伸到我的院子，见图三)，但是其间的隐患让我们不得不下了决心。

 

想来这树在后院一定有七八年了。早些年，只长叶，不开花，更谈不上结果。但是，宽大的树叶却被蜂鸟倾心钟情。蜂鸟妈妈一而再再而三地来筑巢生娃，不结果的牛油果树像是四“巢”元老，有了它的用武之地。

 

最近三年，终于开花了，每年数百朵小花密密麻麻，落了一地却不见果实的影子。直到今年四五月，两颗牛油果从一树的繁花中不负众望脱颖而出，至今依然青青如故，高挂树中。

 

或许，2018年可以算是收获的一年。种了四年的火龙果，今年第一次勉勉强强地结了一个，让我喜出望外，如获至宝地从家中带到了西雅图，和女儿一起品尝了今生吃过的最好吃的火龙果，皮薄，汁多，甜；百香果种了三年了，今年是头一年结果，果子倒是结了一些，然而百香果徒有虚名，抑或是后院的阳光太少，结出的果子没有什么水分，只有干瘪瘪的籽和那么一点点独特的香味。再有就是在这两个牛油果了，昨日砍下时又青又硬，尚不知会不会变软，尚不知味道如何。

 

不过，我已经很心满意足了，巴掌大的小院，阳光照不了几个小时的地方，本来就没有多大奢望，而它们终也没有让我太失望，虽然寥寥几个不起眼，但却实实在在是来自自家的后院，它们是在我的目光中、期盼中一日日长大、开花、结果，朝夕相伴了我这么些年。虽然今日无奈，树（牛油果树）藤（百香果）皆已被砍，然而它们伟岸繁茂的身影却存留在记忆里、文字中，伴着绽放的笑容、绰约的风姿一起载入博客：)) 

 

特附拙诗一首

 

告别

 

八年后的一个周六

空气中依然弥漫着夏的执着

我作别

你青青如故的身影

挥一挥衣袖

繁枝纷纷坠落

 

七年望眼欲穿的等候

等来了你的花开花落

等来了最后的秋果

却又在此时此刻

选择了与你的分手

 

 

但至少

我见证了

你七年的相守

一直在那个角落

无怨无悔

伴我春夏秋冬

 

 

默默地

我收拾起你的所有

没有忧伤  没有落寞

没有难分难舍

只是拼命地嗅着

你残留的香味

想把你永久

锁进记忆的深秋

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The idea of cutting down the avocado tree has been simmering for a year or two, as the tree grows bigger and taller that could potentially pose an issue with the neighbor. When I first planted it from a seed more than seven years ago, it was just an experiment, never expecting it to soar roof-top as it craves for more sunlight. I know cutting it down would make us worry free.  But can I bear to see it to be cut, a tree that has silently been part of our home for so many years, a tree where hummingbirds nested four or five times, and a tree that starts bearing fruits now?

 

No matter how grudging I am, I know it is time. So, last Saturday morning, we borrowed from our friend a sharp long cutter. With a ladder, LD climbed up, while I stood underneath watching and helping.  Two avocados, heavy and still green, hanging high up amid leaves, in the places that I know so well now, were beckoning me. I paid my final tribute to them, being thankful that at least I waited for the day their fruits were borne. 

 

On the early Sunday morning the next day, I customarily stepped out to the backyard for the fresh air, with a book in hand.  My attention was inevitably turned to the spot where it used to have a big shady tree, but now only a nude pole. My sadness was momentary, as it was soon overcome with the bliss of reading in a brighter backyard, where sunlight was now shed fully, without any obstruction.

 

A coin has two sides, so does everything in the world.