SHARING

Pomegranate season is waning…much to my sorrow. As we figure out ways to hold onto pomegranates by overwintering them on our balcony and freezing the tender arials in our small overstuffed freezer- I dive into the season of a most misunderstood fruit of all – persimmons.

We visited a farm in the west and as I admire the persimmons tree and fruit, the lady of the house grabs a stick and knocks a few down for me. Suddenly she smiles and I see a light bulb switch on over her head and she runs, literally runs to a tree in the back yard to bring me the fruit of a different - better tree. 

I’m humbled and a little embarrassed by her generosity. The people in the regions outside of Baku are sharers. I’ve heard more than once from ladies in old plastic sandals and glimmering gold teeth that they have little, but whatever they have they share – and they want to share with me. Fact is, she confides a bit later, they don’t really like them much and share them with the birds that pass by. I thank her and the birds for sharing.

Another farm, managed by refugees of the Nagorno-Karabakh War graciously offer tea and their facilities – above. Trepidation yes, but sturdy enough and the view quite nice!