In Which Bartlett Pear Meets a FigalumpPosted on August 24, 2008
As you may have learned last week, Bartlett Pear, known to his friends as Many-of-Two, or Two for short, was a wondrous kind of fruit, that is, A Pear Who Wondered. One end-of-summer-day that we'll call late August, he was sitting in his FruitGuys Crate when he heard a gentle humming sort of sound nearby. Bartlett Pears, as you may, or may not, know, become more sensitive as they ripen. Their skin turns from a tint of green to that of yellow and they grow softer to the touch. They also begin to smell flowery and fragrant which is how they tell you that they are ready to eat. Well, Bartlett Pear was feeling sensitive as he began to ripen and noticed a new, sweet scent in the crate around him. First of all he said to himself: "That smell means something. You don't find a scent like that just wafting about without it meaning something. If there is a sweet smell in the air then Someone is making it and the only one I know who makes that kind of scent is Fall." Pear thought for a long time and then said: "And the only reason for a Fall Smell is that there must be other Fall Fruit in the crate this week." Pear hoisted himself up and peered around. Changes were happening. Yellow Peach was now an O'Henry variety - one of the sweetest of the year - but also the herald of the beginning of the end to the peach season. Late Dapple Dandy Pluots that were as sweet as honey were talking with Gravenstein Apples and sharing stories about their parts of the woods. Pear knew that his friends in the crate would change depending on which woods he was in: the Eastern Woods by New York and Philadelphia had their own local fruit, just like the Chicago Woods and the California Woods had theirs because The FruitGuys are careful to find local farms near these woods so the mixes are always different by location. Pear peered to his right and gave a start: there he saw a California Woods fruit he had never seen before. It had a bulbous body and a long neck and it clucked in its own happy fruitful way. "I think," Pear said while swallowing loudly, "I think that must be a Figalump." Now Pear had heard that Figalumps could be difficult. Tough skin, an odd shape - it seemed A Dangerous Beast. Turning slowly, Pear's new neighbor said: "I am not a Figalump. I am a California Brown Turkey Fig. You can call me Brown." Pear came to find that Brown, who had grown up in Rick Knoll's Brentwood Woods, was a delicacy. "We like to be quartered and shared with friends," he said. "You can find out how to enjoy our company best, like all the fruit here by going to see what's in the mix."
Thanks again for inspiration to A.A. Milne.
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