Today my neighbor gave me a bowl of plums and peaches from trees in the yard. The plums are still all powdery which makes perfect sense, since they have nothing better to do while up in the trees than to pretend they are 19th century English judges who must come up with some sort of judicial opinion about the leaves surrounding them. Court is in session for several months as the situation ripens and the tension builds. Finally there is a verdict: “The court finds you to be - (insert a very long pause with audible silence) - blessedly guilty of photosynthesis”. The leaves are relieved but the trial has taken it’s toll. They will soon start falling from the trees.