Summer!

Right about now the cherries are ripe on the tree in my parents’ backyard and the cherry-picking season has begun. Through my college years, mid-June was when I flew home for the summer. Right on time, like a bird flies south in the winter. Each year, my summer began with the cherries. How I loved arriving in our little town, entering that backyard, seeing the tree heavy with the weight of the fruit, and taking it upon myself to lead the effort to bring that fruit down! What wonderful feeling it was to climb up on the tree, scraping elbow and knee at times, and put forth the physical effort needed for the job! And what worthy cherries those were for the picking! Never have I seen such perfect cherries! (Much better than those pictured above.) It was always good to know that I was needed, that my arrival was timely, or who knows what would happen to the cherries! (My parents had a way of making us feel useful. Of course, this was more than 10 years ago, and they somehow managed the cherries without me all these years.)

I will miss the cherries once again this year, but will make it home to Hungary later on in the summer. I can hardly wait! But right now, I am reminiscing about the cherries of my youth. And wondering if those same cherries will make my son just as happy one day, when he arrives in mid-June to visit his aging grandparents, so he can pick the famous fruit for them and welcome summer.