Que rico

After lunch I wandered outside.

With the gentlest of breezes, my jeans and sweatshirt warmed nicely in the 54* sunlight. Making my way leisurely through the garage, shop, shed, and backyard in search of no particular item, but hoping some leftover would spark my creativity. Nothing had the potential to be a table, so I continued on to the south-west corner and the only remaining Italian prune tree.

Where summer finds me eating raspberries fresh off the bush, autumn is devoted to these delicious prunes.

Eating prunes is no matter for the rushed or impatient. It may take a few tries to find the perfectly plump fruit. Then, as you rub waxy residue off its skin and onto your jeans, you are likely to catch a whiff of wood smoke, delicious in its spicy undertones. A look at your surroundings takes you to summer and a tree full of pie cherries, winter and hiking up the adjacent driveway only to sled right back down, weekends and spinning round and round and round on inner tubes in the pool until you and your sister feel like you’re sliding down the 70-degree incline that makes up one of the valley walls.

I thought about having an apple too. But thanks to cold storage and the plethora of Washington apple growers, I can satisfy an apple fix well into spring. Perhaps it is this abundance (and the fact that I seem to find only apples or bananas to fulfill my fruit needs during the winter) that keeps them from achieving the enviable position on my list of favorite fruits.

Images © Sparsile

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