Autumn

I was in the produce department at my local market and there they were. Heaped up into a pile - these deep red globes. Pomegranates. When they make their appearance in the market, that is the announcement that autumn has arrived for me. I don't even remember the first time that I had one or why I even wanted to try one. Maybe it was the corner produce stand that was at the end of our block when I was growing up. I probably did experience those little gems hidden beneath that leathery skin in that tiny store.

It was run by a nice, rotund Italian man with a bit of an accent. When the neighborhood kids would stop in, he'd always give us a piece of fruit of some sort. I distinctly remember eating my first Italian plum in his shop. It was intriguing with the blackish purple dusty looking skin. It was sweet, though the ones I've had as an adult just never seem to compare with that first one.

As a youth, I would painstakingly pick out all of the juicy little seeds and save them in a plastic baggie. I would hold it up to the light and watch them glisten like the produce version of rubies. I would eat them a little bit at a time making them last as long as I could.

I bought a pomegranate today. Yes, it is easier to just buy the juice. But that isn't nearly as sensory satisfying. With that first squirt of that tangy juice I took a trip to a happy memory.