We’ve got an apple tree at the bottom of our garden. Because I have the gardening abilities of a small pickax, the base of the tree is surrounded by weeds, many of them big and spikey.
The lower boughs I can reach. The fruit there is invariably half eaten, by birds, by maggots. I’m convinced even the foxes have a go.
The upper branches are where the good stuff grows, completely inaccessible until they fall to the ground, over ripe.
If I could be arsed I’d sort out the sorry mess at the bottom of the tree. Then I could get a ladder out. But there’s too much else going on, and quite frankly I can buy apples at Sainsburys. Not the attitude, I know, but I live in London not Somerset.
Remember this the next time someone is talking to you about the project going after low-hanging fruit. It’s invariably inedible, and if you can’t be arsed then go to the supermarket.