Spring arrives and we run in full sprint preparing and tending. Summer has us watching, patiently waiting. Fall arrives with a prize: fruit grown in.the. bottle. Almost complete, almost. Large jars of ripe pears; bathing in brandy, infuse for months, monitored sip after sip after sip. When the time comes, the brandy pours; briefly veiling the pear. Bottles corked, ready for night capping and mood enhancing, hold secrets of the garden and whispers of the trees.