I made that lovely persimmon fruit leather and dried those pears, then I tried to dry quince into fruit leather. The first thing I noticed was that it smelled “perfume-y” not a good flavor for food. Then, as it dried, it cracked and broke into pieces. I ended up peeling it off the parchment paper in chips large and small.
My husband likened the texture to jerky but he likes the flavor, so that’s a good thing. I would have composted it. For me, it’s like drinking from a perfume bottle.
Today, though, I have a blend of persimmon-quince drying, along with lemon disks. We’ll see how that turns out. I hope the flavor of the persimmon will tone down the perfume.
Late last week, I noticed the change in the light. In the summer, I always get sad at the dimming of the light, which I seem to be noticing earlier and earlier each year. Last summer, I noticed it in July, not my usual August.
In the spring, I don’t usually notice the light first, what I notice is the softness of the air. That winter-to-spring air change is sensual and remarkable. But this year, for the first time, I noticed the light’s return and I celebrate the sun.
Without the sun, there would be no life.
And, speaking of life, the robins are wildly active and assertive in the yard. I took photos of a female robin sitting in the fig tree. With the first click of the shutter, she hopped down from the tree and move closer. With each additional click, she moved closer and closer to me, trying to drive me away from her leaf litter, where she was scratching for worms.
She was trying to intimidate me but she made me laugh.