Almost everyone on Peach Tree Ridge had enough land to keep a horse, a milk cow, and a vegetable garden. Wild asparagus grew along the ditch banks, and nearby the Grand Valley Canal snaked past a cherry orchard, a small vineyard, and farms growing melons and hay. The first summer there, Winna explored the remains of old orchards growing in unexpected places: a row of pear trees along the lane, apricot trees beside the ditch bank, a wild pear thicket in the field to the west, and gnarled old apple trees in two spotty rows just below the rise of the hill. Even though no one pruned or sprayed the trees, there were plenty of only slightly wormy apples to eat—the apricots were spotless, perfect. In spring, the fruit trees blossomed pink and white all across the land and in summer the girls climbed them. When the apricots were sweet and juicy, the rosy color of the setting sun, Winna climbed one of the large trees growing over the irrigation ditch.
What do You think about The House On Seventh Street?
