Before we began to eat them the persimmons looked like this. Then we wrote a 36-link December poem together. I have a very good friend that grew up in a persimmon orchard. When I first saw it I loved the way the bright fruit hangs on the branches after the leaves are gone. We came back from Michigan after autumn leaves had all fallen there. Here in California, a few of the last ones are still falling. Now the mixed passerine feeding flocks come in to feed on the small red berries of the Chinese Pistache trees that line our street. A couple of mornings ago, I saw several white-crowned sparrows, some yellow-rump warblers and some other birds (gone out to get the mail; no binoculars!) in and about the tree. Tomorow will be the last day of 2006. I'm making resolutions.
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