Not dead yet — the flowering tree had fallen over and died, or so I thought.

It’s not dead yet. That feral plum tree whose obituary I so mournfully — and confidently — wrote two months ago has risen from the dead.

I first spotted the little tree way back in 2010. It was growing in the canyon below my house, its cloud of pink and white blossoms mostly hidden from my view by a cluster of oak and bay trees.

Forgotten

Over the years, the oaks and bays grew up around the sturdy little tree. It disappeared from sight, and I forgot about it.

Then, this past January, while checking the progress of the Douglass irises I’d planted in my backyard, I spotted what had to be that plum tree lying on its side, a massive carcass of blackened limbs and twigs.

I took it for dead.

A plum tree gone wild. Photos by Barbara Newhall

But that was January, winter in California. And now it’s March, springtime hereabouts.

When the rain let up a bit the other day, I took a walk on the muddy path at the base of the canyon to see what green things might be coming up after the winter’s generous rain.

Not Dead Yet. That Feral Plum Tree Lives

And there it was, the venerable old plum tree lying on its side at the entrance to the canyon. Yes, it was a messy scramble of black and useless branches. But it wasn’t dead.

A cloud of flowers, pink and white and delicate, had burst from its farthermost tips.

Though not as lush now in its senescence as it had been in its sturdy youth, the tree was very much alive, doing what a plum tree does. It was making sepals, petals, ovules and pollen. It was getting ready for what comes next, confident there would be a next.

More about that backyard at “A Love Letter Arrived From Jon This Week.”  Thoughts on the garden at the side of our house at “I’m Planting a Secret Garden Outside My Office.”