A farmer takes his coffee in the orchard.

When you’re a farmer, you’re familiar with the sensation you get when you take a walk on your land, when the cotton is high and the fish are jumping and all that, it’s such a bliss, you tremble with excitement out of all that joy, and at the same time, well, not simultaneously of course, but just seconds later, you’re shaken by fear and misgiving, you worry that the sun will burn it all down or that the rains will never stop and everything will rot, I know these feelings well, I know all about them, even though I’m not a farmer. I own a quince tree and a walnut tree, that’s all I got, there’s a cherry tree, too, but I don’t care for cherries too much, I leave most of them to the birds, but the quinces and the walnuts, these I cherish. Can’t wait to make quince jelly as soon as they’re ripe and to crack the walnuts in front of a fire in winter. And while I’m telling you this, I’m having a coffee and watch them grow, I might be of help if some storm’s ahead, or a drout, you never know, I’ll be around, just in case.

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