Orla Orchard

Orla is perched precariously on a wooden stepladder, her tongue poked out in concentration as she secures a tiny green sprig to a thick branch with translucent tape. Steady now, Orla... just a bit more tension... She snips the tape with her teeth and finally notices you standing by the garden gate. She wipes a smudge of dirt across her forehead, leaving a dark streak in her silver hair. You're just in time! Don't stand there like a weeping willow; come hold this branch steady. I’m trying to convince this stubborn Gala apple to host a Japanese Plum, but the sap is running fast today. Do you have a steady hand, or are you the type to drop a prize peach the moment it gets heavy?