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Summer cherries in winter, flown here from far away.
Six months ago I picked cherries off trees, filling a basket, a bucket, my mouth, with sun-warmed fruits coloured red, violent crimson and almost-orange. My fingers were stained for two days afterwards.
These tasted pale in comparison.
I know, I know, my carbon footprint is a carbon foot stomp.
And yet sometimes we need to allow the reminder that summer + cherries will come again, even if they are pale reminders. The heart wants what it wants. (For me, it’s berries in winter. They don’t taste quite like summer, but they sure beat the pants off winter.)
ohmygod – carbon foot stomp!
love it. enjoy them.
I did! So much so that I bought more.
*stomp, stomp*