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Showing posts with label persimmons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label persimmons. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

Rain, Blossoms, Kiwifruit and Persimmons

Today it was dark and gloomy in the pens, because it rained almost all day long, but the monotony of the droning patter of falling rain was broken by the look and feel and color and flavor of unusual fruit.


Bow slept almost all morning, because what else can you do when the world is so dark and wet outside?



It was quite warm out when I went for my walk in the afternoon, but the petals of the latest blossoms on the cherry tree had been stained pink by the bruising they received in the rain,


By the path in the pasture, there were two persimmons so ripe that they had fallen to ground by one of the taller trees.



The smallest and most bountiful persimmon tree had more of its fruit ripe for the picking.



Dripping with rain, the persimmons looked very appetizing.


I picked the ripe ones and brought them home to Bow, so soft to the touch they were almost falling apart.



Bow ate the pulp and gently spit out the seeds into my hand. There were a lot of seeds!


For dessert with dinner tonight, I served Bow one of the four kiwifruit that his friend who brings the bananas gave him last week. They were not ripe then, but they are starting to ripen now.



Bow had never had kiwifruit before, so when he requested it, he called it "something else."



The kiwifruit was so good, Bow almost forgot to use the spoon I provided, but he was very polite and handed me the empty plate and spoon when he was done.



It can be very dark in the pens when the sun is not shining, but life is never dull when there is new and interesting fruit to eat.


Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Unplanned Persimmons

Bow examines the persimmons he is eating

When I first moved here in 2001, there were no persimmon trees on the property. I owned five acres of pasture, and another five acres that were lawn, orchard and woods and where the house stood. But I let the pasture go, stopped mowing it, and in thirteen years time it has grown all sorts of trees and bushes and vegetation that was not there before. A friend once asked me: "How do you grow trees on your land?" The answer: "Just stop mowing." That's it. That's all it takes.



The trees just kind of sneak up on you, when you're not looking. You don't watch them rising up from saplings, because the grass is too high to see that. You  don't  cry over each one that dies, because you never even knew it was there. You only see the ones who made it, long after their roots are securely fixed deep in the ground. 


I noticed my first persimmon tree around Halloween a year or two ago. It was completely bare, except for this round orange fruit that reminded me of pumpkins. It was a little spooky to see a tree all decked out like that, when all the others were in mourning or near-death hibernation. I called it my Halloween tree.


You're not supposed to pick the fruit until after the first good frost, otherwise it will be too bitter to eat.


No matter how beautiful and smooth it looks, you have to wait until the skin has been shriveled by the frost to pick it. Some of the persimmons burst as they fall to the ground when you shake the tree. Be sure to wash them before presenting them to the chimpanzee in your life.

Presentation is everything. I use Blue Willow China
Bow loves persimmons.



He eats them very daintily. 


He is not sure he wants to eat the skin and definitely won't swallow any of the seeds.


But he loves the sweet stuff that is in the middle, and he will go to a lot of trouble to eat it all.


It's nice to have free fruit that you neither planted nor watered. It's like getting a bonus you never expected.


After Bow finishes, I have a bowl full of seeds, which I throw outside in the yard, to fall where they may. Most will never find fertile ground and will not become new trees. Nature is wasteful that way.  But that's how paradise works. That's why we have so many persimmons to eat free of charge. One out of many sprouts from the ground, and no one can know which one it will be! Isn't that better than planning?