Jian’s Garden — Loquat Harvest Season

By: Dr. Jian Zhang

Every season in the garden carries its own lesson.

This time of year, my loquat tree turns into a golden canopy. Clusters of bright orange fruit hang quietly beneath deep green leaves, glowing in the morning sun. Some are fully ripe and sweet, while others are still small and green, waiting patiently for their time.

Standing beneath the tree with a basket in hand, I am reminded again that nature never

rushes—and yet everything arrives when it is ready.

A few months ago, these loquats were tiny blossoms swaying in the wind. Then came the cold rain, the cloudy days, the uncertainty of whether the fruit would survive. But the tree continued its work quietly and steadily. No announcements. No urgency. Just patient growth.

Leadership, life, and personal transformation often feel the same.

In today’s world, we are constantly pushed to move faster, achieve more, and produce immediate results. We measure ourselves against timelines, titles, and expectations. But gardens teach a different wisdom: growth has seasons.

Some seasons are for blooming.

Some are for deep roots.

Some are for pruning.

And some are for harvest.

The loquat tree does not compare itself to the rose bush beside it. It simply follows its own

rhythm.

Over the years—whether leading a hospital through crisis, rebuilding trust during difficult times, or now entering a new chapter after stepping away from the CEO role—I have learned that meaningful things are rarely built overnight.

You cannot pull on a branch to make fruit ripen faster.

You can only nurture the conditions for growth:

patience, consistency, resilience, and care.

And then one day, almost quietly, the harvest arrives.

This year’s harvest was especially joyful. Many birds and squirrels come and share happily.

Bao, my curious cat, inspected every basket as if he were supervising quality control. There was laughter, sunlight, and that simple satisfaction that comes from gathering something you helped nurture over time.

Loquats are not only beautiful and delicious—they are also deeply rooted in traditional wellness wisdom. Rich in vitamins A and C, potassium, antioxidants, and fiber, loquats support immunity, skin health, and digestion. In traditional Chinese medicine, loquat is known for its ability to润肺止咳—soothing the lungs, easing coughs, and reducing heat. Loquat syrup and loquat leaf tea have long been part of many Asian households.

As a child, whenever I had a cough, elders would simmer warm loquat soup. Looking back now, I realize it was never only medicine—it was care, memory, and love.

Perhaps that is why gardening feels so meaningful to me now.

A garden reminds us that life is not only about achievement. It is also about cultivation.

Cultivating health.

Cultivating wisdom.

Cultivating relationships.

Cultivating peace within ourselves.

And maybe the greatest harvest in life is not what we accumulate, but what we become through the seasons.

As I carried another basket of loquats into the house, I thought again of the words from the Dao De Jing: “人法地，地法天，天法道，道法自然," or: “Humankind follows the Earth, Earth follows Heaven, Heaven follows the Dao, and the Dao follows nature.”

The garden always knows.

And if we are willing to slow down enough to listen, perhaps we will too.