Fig Trees

Two fig trees grow in my garden. They have given me just a little anguish in the past. My best English friend has one and I learned from her about the growing and rearing thereof! But this is a first for me. Masses of fruit were born in the Spring, bursting along the branches all green and shapely with the buds of hope and expectancy. I constantly watched and waited, seeing the strength and health of this fruit slowly emerge and quickly swell.
The so-called 'June' drop (northern hemisphere term), was considerable, perhaps a hundred perspective fruits made their way to the ground with gentle and regular plops. At this rate the trees would be denuded in a very short time. On and on the little green, under ripe images of luscious fleshy fruitfulness, unbound and detached themselves from the boughs.
Then came the strength of warmth, sunshine in abundance to plump them and swell their pink centres with the temptation of Eve, they kept growing larger and fuller with the nectar of the bird's heaven, filling between the branches their darker skins ripened. Now, is that time when waiting since forever, the first time in my life I can partake of this richness. There is one person I would love to share it with (amongst others), my best friend who still lives just one mile of what was my cottage, in the pretty depths of West Dorset.