Читать книгу Blood Orange - Drusilla Campbell - Страница 6

Prologue

In the back of my garden a blood orange tree struggles for life. Its effort to be fruitful against the odds touches my heart. Valiant and struggling . . . maybe that’s me I’m describing: Dana Cabot struggling to be better. But there is nothing valiant in me. I have proved myself a liar and coward too many times to have illusions.

Does this explain why I take the time to fertilize and prune and mulch my little tree when everything else in the garden must hobble along as best it can? Having failed myself and others, I want and need to prove I can do better.

In its protected corner my gawky blood orange grows slowly. In a year or two, if all goes well, it may bear fruit. Perhaps then we will all have healed. I long for that day, for summertime, a girl’s voice, and the raspberry sweetness of the blood red fruit.