This is the view over my kitchen sink.
Don't they look great?
I can't wait for harvest time...the smell of them ripe on
the tree...with a little goat cheese on some good bread.
It amazes me every year that we get more, this big old tree filled with figs began as a small
twig from my neighbor's tree as they were getting ready to sell their house.
There were about three of them on the back of their house before they moved in, the
old man who lived there before them had let them be and when he died at 103,
his nieces came and each took one of the smaller ones growing under the older big ones.
He was an interesting old man who lived simply off his piece of land, he took care of himself
right up to the end. Hanging his clothes on the line in the backyard to dry every other day.
With each new owner, we worry that they will not understand what they have and ruin it.
Each one has, just a bit. But we feel better knowing that a little bit of the gardening
Mr Bartholomew did is alive and well in our yard today.
Our tree is now bigger than what was is left in his old yard,
and I think of him often while I do my dishes.