My Potted Grapefruit Tree

I have a potted grapefruit tree (plant) that normally resides next to the pergola.

Now, that the weather temperatures have cooled to near or below freezing at night, I have brought my potted grapefruit tree inside - to a sunny corner of the living room, to be exact. It sits on a short wooden platform in a metal dish to protect the hardwood floor from moisture. (I learned this precaution the hard way.) This tree use to spend winters in the basement until I realized that the basement was not providing the necessary light for adequate survival.  And, since I rarely spend much time in the basement, I always forgot to water the tree on a regular basis.  Despite its shortcomings, the tree survived.

This grapefruit, even though very old, has never produced one fruit.  I can understand why - it grows in a very small pot. 

I started this tree from a seed from a grapefruit I was eating in 1969.  I remember the year because this is the year my brother graduated from high school - the same time I planted the seed in a six-inch terra cotta pot.  As the tree grew, I would transplant it into a larger pot.  I had to stop at a 14" pot because the tree/pot was getting too heavy for Glenn to move from outside to inside in the fall, and back outside in the spring.  Now, the tree pretty much stays the same size because of the size of its pot - kind of like bonsai.  Sometimes a branch dies. I cut if off, and a new sprout begins to grow.  I am sure if I removed the tree from the pot that I would find a mass of intertwined roots, very little soil.  But, the tree continues to live.

This tree has traveled the United States during our several moves - Illinois to Virginia,  Virginia to Colorado,  a short visit with my parents in Illinois when we moved to Alaska, Idaho back to Virginia.

I have a photo of Matt sitting under the tree, on top of the soil, and hugging the stem when he was two.  He had a great big smile. What would entice a little boy to do such a thing? 

Buddy comes by for a drink when I water (about one gallon total per day during the summer) the tree (outside) as the water pools before it is absorbed.

Now, inside for protection from the cold, the grapefruit slowly loses its leaves as it makes the transition. 

As the leaves dry, one by one, they drop to the wood floor with a soft crispness.  Loud enough, though, breaking the silence; that I can be roused from a nap as I unintentionally doze, reading (?) a book. 

The faintness of each sporadic leaf descent is calming, pleasant - so much impact for so little gesture.

The leaves gather around the base of the plant.  I sweep up the fallen leaves daily.  The next day there is a new gathering.

I thought about counting the downed leaves and the leaves remaining on the tree - there is quite a significant number and I was a bit curious, but that little task would just be a waste of precious time. (I am not that curious.)  After all, more leaves will fall, and more leaves will grow.

No, this tree of mine does not produce any fruit; but it does produce many memories, many singular moments.

And, my grapefruit tree continues to endure.