Walking around the orchard these days, there’s an uneven chorus of dull, rather quiet thuds. Apples falling.
I don’t remember Dad telling me about this tree, but since the deer are avoiding the drops, I’m guessing this is a pollinator—so: for the pollen and not the apples. I guess the pollinator trees are somewhat like the drones in an ant colony. Somewhat.
There’s a poetically named Lake of the Clouds west of here; this is Lake under the Clouds. There wasn’t much sunshine today, but we had constant cloud-cover (shown here), and even some rain.