My medlar is now fully clothed and well equipped to face the imminent summer months, the fresh leaves covering the twisted gnarled boughs like an couture gown on an ancient grand dame. On closer inspection it appears that the flower buds are well formed, not long before she will be further decorated. The medlar comes into flower later than most fruit trees, ensuring the presence of pollinators and a greatly diminished chance of frost. A wayward shoot is emerging from the base of a old bough wound, pock marked and dry, attempting to replace a long lost limb. Nestling atop this gallant front runner, holed by mountaineering molluscs, are two perfect downy buds. Potential, if ever I saw it.