Sometimes it’s better to leave things alone
It started with my cherry tree. For most of the year it sits in the middle of our patio and just … well, is. But for seven glorious days in Spring the pink blossom comes out and it looks, frankly, stunning. Like something we’ve cultivated and cared for throughout the other fifty one weeks, when really all we’ve done is, umm, nothing. Of course soon I’ll be cursing it as the blossom falls, creating a slowly decaying pink carpet that will cling tenaciously to the patio slabs. For now though, it is a spectacular burst of colour that lifts the heart just to look at it. And according to what I’ve read, because we’re having such cold nights, the blossom may actually survive a little longer this time.
The cherry tree isn’t the only thing thriving in my garden at the moment. I’ve spotted further blossom, even more delicate. This from a tree – or maybe a bush? – that is so neglected I didn’t even realise we had it. And I certainly don’t know what it’s called.
Having taken a few proud photographs of the blossom, I sat at my desk and prepared to re-look at a novella I’m working on (while waiting on the line edits for Search for Truth). It’s my third read through of this book and it wasn’t long before I realised I was changing a number of sentences back to how they’d been on my previous draft.
Letting out a deep sigh, he put his head in his hands.
Putting his head in his hands, he let out a deep sigh.
Seriously?! Worse, I probably agonised over both changes.
And it doesn’t always stop at a few lines. On a second draft I’ve been known to add a whole chapter, or a prologue. On the third draft I’ve deleted them.
I can see you’re getting confused. What has this got to do with my blossom? Well, all I’m trying to say is that sometimes it’s good to meddle with things, but equally sometimes it’s best to leave things well alone.
For me, in the garden … I definitely believe I’m best leaving well alone.
When I’m editing … sadly I’m still trying to work that one out.