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Ringo hated gardening, as much as he tried to enjoy it for the sake of George, he couldn't manage to force it. The garden at Friar Park was beyond gorgeous, it was a haven of all things natural and Ringo loved it, he just didn't love the work it required. George on the other hand seemed to love the efforts more than the reward, something Ringo couldn't really understand but he still respected it.
Today was another scorching day, which meant George would be up at the break of dawn to hurry out into the garden. Ringo rolled around in bed for a few hours after him, only waking up when the heat became unbearable with the sheets sticking to his skin.
Locating George in the garden was a difficult task, and it only got more difficult as the garden grew. Ringo fixed up a tray of ice cold water with two glasses, then headed out to begin his search.
"George!" Ringo called out freely, it was always a refreshing reminder of how far away they were from anyone else.
No reply. Ringo sighed and ventured further through the trimmed grass, George could've been anywhere by this point. It was weather like this that made Ringo proud of his decision to always wear sunglasses, even if might have looked a little ridiculous wearing nothing else but his boxers.
"Georgie!" Ringo tried once more, he was desperate for a drink.
Every time Ringo journeyed into the greenery, he always spotted something new. Each little flower or low shrubbery felt like a little piece of George, soaking happily in the sun. Ringo thought he'd never see George fall in love with anything as much as he loved music - or Ringo - but gardening had essentially taken over his life; the love of music was still there of course, it was never going away, but the gardening seemed to be a way of George distancing himself entirely from The Beatles, something they still had to do despite the several years since they broke up, and even from himself. Music was an art, but gardening was more spiritual and selfless in a way.
"A man who plants a tree knowing he won't live to sit in it's shade understands the true meaning of life." George would often quote, Ringo had heard it somewhere before but hadn't thought much of it or fully understood it.
The sun beat down onto Ringo's skin, luckily there'd been enough men in the past who planted trees here so that there was available shade to rest in.
"George, where are you!?" Ringo shouted for the third time.
"Up here!" George finally responded, confusing Ringo a little who struggled to see above his own head with the blinding sun's rays.
Ringo let out a laugh when he made out the shape of George relaxing in a tree, his hat pressed down on his head to shade his eyes. His long hair spilled down his body, giving him the appearance of some kind of wisened fairy or young wizard.
"What the bloody hell you doing up there?" Ringo asked with a grin.
"What you doing down there?" George retorted, patting a space on the wide branch he was reclining on.
"Not very likely." Ringo scoffed "Come down and get a drink, love."
George shook his head "You've gotta come up here I'm afraid."
Ringo gave him a disapproving look, George and him often got into these playful disagreements but he definitely didn't have the energy for this one, but it didn't look like George was going to budge - he could be painfully stubborn.
"Please?" George softened after seeing Ringo's expression "It's really beautiful."
Ringo continued to look at him somewhat sternly, but he couldn't keep it up. He let out a sigh and set down the tray on the floor, he took a large swig from the jug before sizing up the tree. He hadn't climbed one since he was a little boy, scuffing up his knees and messing up his hands. No matter how old he got, George managed to remain youthful in his unique, ageless way and this was just another example as to how.
"The things I do for you." Ringo announced before reaching his hand upwards to grab a branch.
It must've been quite the sight, Ringo Starr in his boxers and signature sunglasses climbing up a tree. This was just the kind of freedom the seclusion of Friar Park allowed them, it felt very different to how many celebrities just owned a ridiculously large house, with the expanse of nature surrounding the building it made it feel like a world all of its own.
Ringo struggled at first to find his footing, luckily he was strong enough to pull himself up. Maybe he should've gone back to get dressed first, but he reckoned that would've ruined the moment. It took him way less time than he would've expected, managing to get up to George's level only in a few minutes. He could feel his skin getting irritated in places, but he didn't really care, not if it meant making George happy.
He let out an exhausted huff when he reached the top, scooting beside George and letting his legs dangle below. Ringo was never a fan of heights, but he felt secure enough where he sat.
"Nice of you to join me." George said with a smile, he looked completely at ease.
"You owe me a bath." Ringo joked, finally able to relax.
"I think I can manage that." George pulled his hat backwards so that Ringo could see his eyes better "Have you given up on clothes? Not that I'm complaining."
"I wasn't planning on staying out here long, believe it or not." Ringo answered, he started kicking his legs.
"But look at that view." George instructed gently, nodding his head forwards to guide Ringo's gaze.
Ringo hadn't really considered why George had even been up here in the first place, but it all made sense as soon as he turned to look around. Even from this height he couldn't see the edges of the gardens, but a great deal of its beauty was revealed. The sun danced among the leaves, sparkling across the water of the ponds, it was beautiful. Exactly how much was George's work, Ringo wasn't sure, but he knew a great deal of it was.
Looking out upon the variety of life blossoming, Ringo finally understood what George's quote had meant.