Hope is hearing the melody of the future. Faith is to dance to it. ~R. Alves

I came home yesterday to a pleasant surprise.

 

My porch was swept clean.  And I didn't walk into any branches.

 

The crab-apple tree that dominates my living room view has given a bountious harvest this year (and the first time it has been so generous since I've lived here).  I gave up for a while trying to keep my porch free of the little crab-apple bombs.  It seemed futile.  I'd sweep (or shovel) the fruit and clear off my front porch, only to be greeted with the ominous plonk-plonk.  By the afternoon, it would like it had in the morning.

 

But they've trimmed back the branches that were hanging precariously low over my porch, and theoretically I will get fewer apples.

 

Even though this morning my porch is still littered with the little buggers.

 

But it's autumn.  Sunny skies and crisp coolness.  Colorful leaves and sweaters.

 

I can't really complain about a few pervasive crab-apples.

 

And yes, I did immediately head to the leasing office and pour out my profuse gratitude once I discovered what the landscaper/handylady had accomplished while I slaved away in this powder blue cube.  I find that the small things in life are usually the ones that require the most appreciation.

 

Now I can't wait until I'll no longer experience the ominous plonk-plonks as the little fruit bombs careen against my front window, or the odd squishing sensation from the ones that land perfectly on my welcome mat -- and that I don't notice until after I've stepped outside.