Last year I bought a tiny little fig tree. It stayed in my green house all summer, and far into autumn. When cold night came, with darkness and frost, the little tree got a new home, down in our basement. There it has slept all through the winter, waking upo a few weeks ago, curiously starting to grow her light green leaves.
Today the tree, which has grown quite a lot since last spring, moved back up to her summer residence, the green house. From there she will discover the new summer, another year in her young life. She will grow and hopefully make fruits.
I will be there to water her, to fertilize her, to whisper words of love into her skin.