The first fig of summer
500 Words: One Moment, This Year
I circle you, gauging your height and breadth, your strengths and weaknesses, your light and shade. You seem ancient and gnarled, yet I know you are fertile and strong.You are the Tree of Life.I move into your space and part your outer layers to gain a clearer view of the core of your being.I reach in deep and feel the strength of your trunk between my fingers. The smoothness of your spotted bark over the knobbiness of your limbs excites my senses.I step back and assess your beauty. Your patterns and colours. So pleasing to the eye, I wonder at your magnificence and your ability to satisfy, on so many levels.I pass my outstretched hand over your greenery, up then down. I sidestep and backstep continuing my inspection. Arm up, arm down, brushing over your greenness.
I massage your leaves. They are like elephant ears. Rolling their thickness gingerly through my index finger and thumb, I feel the sponginess of their undersides and the bristliness of their tops.
These scratchy leaves are steeped in history and the bible stories of my childhood dance before me. I can see The Garden of Eden. I can see the flight of Adam and Eve, their nakedness covered by your leaves. I smile.
I search your upper-most branches then scour your lower rungs searching for the black-purple globes that hang like pendulous breasts, unrestrained.
I palpitate those fruits of the darkest colour, rejecting the green of the unripened. Beneath my fingers their leathery skin yields teasingly. I feel their density, weigh their heaviness, dismiss their innocence.
With two hands, I delicately pull apart your fruit and greedily survey each half. I scrutinise their reddy-pink flowery insides and marvel as their yellowy seeds mesmerise me.
Entranced, I salivate in anticipation.
Peeling back the veined fibrous skin, I push your sweet fleshy fruit towards my mouth.
In this moment, as the lusciousness of your ripeness fills me, I inhale deeply through my experience of a pure pleasure explosion.
As I exhale, eyes closed, my senses race toward the moment of my next lingering bite into textured ecstasy.