Stories Along the Way

Someone once gave me a bush lemon, and after tasting it, I was hooked.

There was something about its distinctive flavour that ordinary lemons didn’t quite have. So naturally, I went looking for more.

Rusty’s Market. Supermarkets. Marketplace.

Nothing.

Then one day, I spotted a bush lemon plant advertised on Marketplace.

If I couldn’t find the lemons, I thought, I could grow my own.

So I bought the plant, bought a very large pot for it, and planted my little bush lemon tree on our balcony.

It thrived.

The leaves were green, new shoots were appearing, and I was already imagining the lemons that would eventually follow.

Then I discovered caterpillars.

They were eating the young shoots.

My precious young shoots.

So I did what any protective new lemon-tree owner would do: I picked the caterpillars off and got rid of them.

And then, eventually, I realised what I was getting rid of.

Butterflies.

That changed things.

I still wanted my bush lemons. I had gone to quite a bit of trouble to find that plant, after all.

But I could buy another bush lemon tree.

I could plant two if I had to.

And really, anyone with enough space and determination can grow a lemon tree.

But not everyone gets to have butterflies growing up on their balcony.

So the caterpillars stayed.

They ate some of my beautiful new growth. I surrendered a few leaves. And eventually, one day, there it was.

A butterfly.

Right there on the bush lemon tree on my balcony.

I looked at what was left of the young shoots and realised I had a choice.

I can always buy another bush lemon tree.

Or marcot a mature branch perhaps.

But I can’t buy butterflies.