When a foul wind blows

If ever you wonder whether or not God has a sense of humor, I present you the Callery Pear tree . . .

Sure, those may look a lot like the blossoms of my Italian plum tree, but don’t be fooled.

In many ways, the pyrus calleryna is an impressive specimen. So resistant to sickness or blight, it may very well survive the apocalypse. It’s tolerant to various soil types and conditions. It dresses in a bright variety of hues in the autumn; and in the springtime, it’s gorgeously arrayed in white. 

Unfortunately, those bleached blossoms also stink. 

It’s not simply that they do not possess a lovely scent, mind you. They stink, like sewage . . . like raw meat basking in the blazing sun . . . like, well, that which shant be said.

When at first you meet, it’s hard to believe those lovely blooms capable of anything but sweetness. So you make excuses: a neighboring house has cleanliness issues; a place of business has an unfortuante dumpster problem; a wayward wind is whipping foul odors from afar. All the while, you linger under a canopy of stench. In your denial, you may even go so far as to cut a bouquet to bring in of doors.

There’s no need to assult your ofactory system, my friends.

Simply remember, nefarious deeds may very well be cloaked in loveliness. Some things are better admired from afar. And yes, sometimes we find God’s sense of humor swaying in the trees around us.