persimmons

afternoon

eating the batter

The first oranges are ripening and the persimmon trees are looking heavy, leaning over fences, standing over yards. One fell from the tall tree at the end of the cul-du-sac and rolled into street where I picked it up and carried it home and put in on the windowsill. Our neighborhood isn’t beautiful, but there is always something happening if you know where to look. Eating ice cream after a day by the ocean, I picked up a magazine and read about foraging olives from the trees of banks and libraries and universities. I was filled with an urgency- don’t miss it! watch for the olives! autumn will be here and gone soon! But the seasons here don’t have sharp edges. They bleed into each other, relax. Olives will linger on the trees well into winter. Today we biked around our neighborhood in the heat of midday, and I watched for the orange of persimmon trees and friendly doors I might knock on and ask to pick a few. I felt the urgency to bike! bike! bike while you can!, but I set it aside for now, and set aside the other urgencies and thrills of an autumn with winter on its way. The reds and oranges of fall this year will be found in more quiet ways, like pomegranates and persimmons leaning over fences.//embedr.flickr.com/assets/client-code.js

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