Due to an alternating combination of busyness and laziness,
I haven’t written on this blog all summer. In fact, the last time I wrote pear blossoms were falling on my head. Now, as you can see, the pears
themselves are falling, and though they are tasty (and organic!) they make
quite a mess, particularly since by necessity my car is parked right underneath the trees.
Though I loved the beautiful pear blossoms, I must admit I didn’t pay much attention to the progress of the pears over the summer, so one day recently I looked out my window and was startled to find that fruit was ready to pick. I guess I could have been more observant (and more nurturing!) as the pears were evolving, but I had other things on my plate (and mind). Now, when I gaze out the window I’m overcome by a sense of awe. How did things change so much without my even noticing?
Though I loved the beautiful pear blossoms, I must admit I didn’t pay much attention to the progress of the pears over the summer, so one day recently I looked out my window and was startled to find that fruit was ready to pick. I guess I could have been more observant (and more nurturing!) as the pears were evolving, but I had other things on my plate (and mind). Now, when I gaze out the window I’m overcome by a sense of awe. How did things change so much without my even noticing?
From experience, I realize this isn’t a unique observation.
With school starting, I know that parents all over the country are saying
things like, “I can’t believe he’s in Kindergarten already!” or “How did she get
old enough to go to college?” And others might be saying things like, “When and
how did this relationship go sour?” or “Where in the heck did this gray hair
come from?"
The pears are a juicy reminder of how seemingly swiftly and quietly things can change, even though the process may have actually taken months or even years. Obviously, there’s no running away from it, whatever it is. So just pluck that ripe fruit (or if it’s rotten, compost it) and enjoy the flavors.
