𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭
I know of a couple of trees locally, a friend has one and there is one at Groenendaal, but it seems they are more widespread than I had thought. Or perhaps I am only now noticing them.
I speak of the Medlar. You may miss it beside the froth of hawthorn, but its five-petalled flower is larger, more solitary. It sits somewhere between rose and apple.
Later it bears fruit, truly medieval in spirit, a quiet legacy of the long relationship between our Forest and the Church. I find it more and more now, in the margins.
Let the blet await.