persimmons redux

This past Friday I became a woman possessed. I looked out of the dining room window and noticed a large mockingbird eating the persimmon at the left of the picture. While I have been willing to share the bounty of the fig tree, and did not hoist a net over the tree this summer, I have only these 7 lovely persimmons on the newly planted young tree. The weight of the fruit is so great that it bent the main stem (it can hardly be called a trunk).

I shrieked and called Jasmine (the perfect dog) to help me roust the mockingbird from his perch on the wobbly branch. Jasmine ran down the stairs and eagerly chased the bird.

The persimmons were carefully harvested and brought inside to finish ripening in the dining room in a place of honor. The cake plate is a "Fire and Light" Mother's Day present from Anna.

I left the half eaten one for the mockingbird...



"Fire and Light" is a recycled glass manufacturing company in Arcata, CA. They make lovely things out of a now abundant resource. Unfortunately, the store selling these pretty and useful things has been affected by the recession.

But here in Napa, perhaps they will be a persimmon pudding. Perhaps they will be a persimmon frozen yogurt.

In our women's chorus for the Cinnabar Theater in Petaluma we just sang our Christmas concert. One of the songs was a Randall Thompson setting for the Robert Frost poem - "Come In". The mockingbird was not invited in, though he sought to "better his perch"...






As I came to the edge of the woods,
Thrush music -- hark!
Now if it was dusk outside,
Inside it was dark.

Too dark in the woods for a bird
By sleight of wing
To better its perch for the night,
Though it still could sing.

The last of the light of the sun
That had died in the west
Still lived for one song more
In a thrush's breast.

Far in the pillared dark
Thrush music went --
Almost like a call to come in
To the dark and lament.

But no, I was out for stars;
I would not come in.
I meant not even if asked;
And I hadn't been.