Years ago, and long before I had a Bed and Breakfast in Kingston, Jamaica, I was an active ‘patron of the arts’ (smiles). On one of my gallery-hopping jaunts I dallied around a Partick Waldemar watercolour of tangerines hanging from the tree. So real. So juicy! At once, I wanted to pick and eat them yet still take home that richly-coloured tangerine and green piece of art. I did neither. Luckily, the Jamaica Pegasus Hotel prudently purchased it and proudly placed it in their foyer for all to share. Filled with regret, I wanted to pick and eat the fruit right there, and simultaneously, stealthily take home those rich tangerine and green hues to hang on my wall. Alas, I did neither.
Over the past 10 years, we have dallied under our own tangerine tree here at Neita’s Nest. Season after season, we have watched the drought deny its blossoms, storms strip its leaves and hurricanes blow baby fruit from their stems. In a better season, we too patiently waited for that one ‘deggae-deggae’ fruit to be ripened by the sun, only to find that the birds knew better. It was among the best of times when one year we were able to share the only one of the season with our neighbour, Ray.
Hurricane Dean all but did her in in '07. Not a bud, not a blossom since all these years. Fertilized, watered, pruned. Yet nothing! I stood firmly under the seemingly stubborn tree last December and threatened to cut her down to make way for better views of the sunrise if she did not bear next season.
Well, whether it was that awful threat, the blessings of rain, more frequent fertilizing, perfect pruning, the appreciation expressed by our guest J. Nichole for how she filtered the morning sun by her window, or sheer time and patience, this summer we are counting over a dozen tangerines on the tree. Duncan picked the first ripe fruit last week and we shared it. Peg by peg. The others are slowly taking on tangerine hues in the late summer sun.
Last week I went to another Patrick Waldemar exhibition; my first since then; probably his too. I dallied around his artfully placed master strokes depicting fruit, flora, sea and landscapes, knowing, that like fruit on the trees, we can’t have them all, and that there is another level of pleasure to be experienced from sharing art with others.
This time, there will be no regrets.
Over the past 10 years, we have dallied under our own tangerine tree here at Neita’s Nest. Season after season, we have watched the drought deny its blossoms, storms strip its leaves and hurricanes blow baby fruit from their stems. In a better season, we too patiently waited for that one ‘deggae-deggae’ fruit to be ripened by the sun, only to find that the birds knew better. It was among the best of times when one year we were able to share the only one of the season with our neighbour, Ray.
Hurricane Dean all but did her in in '07. Not a bud, not a blossom since all these years. Fertilized, watered, pruned. Yet nothing! I stood firmly under the seemingly stubborn tree last December and threatened to cut her down to make way for better views of the sunrise if she did not bear next season.
Well, whether it was that awful threat, the blessings of rain, more frequent fertilizing, perfect pruning, the appreciation expressed by our guest J. Nichole for how she filtered the morning sun by her window, or sheer time and patience, this summer we are counting over a dozen tangerines on the tree. Duncan picked the first ripe fruit last week and we shared it. Peg by peg. The others are slowly taking on tangerine hues in the late summer sun.
Last week I went to another Patrick Waldemar exhibition; my first since then; probably his too. I dallied around his artfully placed master strokes depicting fruit, flora, sea and landscapes, knowing, that like fruit on the trees, we can’t have them all, and that there is another level of pleasure to be experienced from sharing art with others.
This time, there will be no regrets.
Pulpy pegs of tangerine, ready to be shared
