As the leaves turn and fall and the wind sweeps them up into piles, chilling bones as it goes, and the sun's angle lowers and I recall once again that my roots are in the tropics, that months of wearing layers of clothing are here, I feel such gratitude for the late bounty that California offers in consolation.

Melons and figs are gone, but oh, the persimmons! Last week, picking persimmons, I gave myself the gift of eating a tree-ripened hachiya whilst it was still attached to the tree! What a sacrament - blessing the tree beforehand and looking into the November sun. One of the most satisfying things I've ever eaten. And oh, the prickly pears! Harvested a bunch of those out hiking yesterday and the juiciness, the sweetness, the little seeds, the intense color - yes and keep the tweezers handy for those little spines that get on you no matter what... (I keep an old skin brush and give each fruit a good brush on the gravel before handling it.)

As I begin to study the history of fruit growing, I also recognize that the persimmon trees wouldn't be there if not for human cultivation (especially by Japanese immigrants here) and so I feel great gratefulness for them also, and inspiration to continue the delightful play of man earth and tree. And as for the cacti, there's a wildness about them that has a magic all of its own - how a fruit that sweet and that seeded is so protected and autonomous - surely it wants us to eat it nonetheless!

Beautifully Stated.

The wild California grapes growing along the rivers are another fall crop well worth foraging for. I plan to plant some by my house and let them grow into the unused sunlight on my roof.