Life is a bowl of cherries!

This was a blog I wrote in the summer when ripe, delicious cherries were coming into the shops.  Just a little reminder of those few summer days we had!

 

At this time of the year with cherries in the shops I bore everyone with my stories of walking in the Kentish cherry orchards before they were grubbed up for planting tasteless, golden delicious apples for the European market.

I had friends who lived near the orchards and like everyone else enjoyed the wonderful flowering in the spring.  Then when we took the dog for long walks through the orchards we refreshed ourselves with flavourful, delicious, succulent cherries.  The juice just ran down your chin and there was real taste.  I have never tasted any others that come near those Naploleons.  Rich, dark red and maroon bordering on black…… scrummy!   And there were plenty to buy in the local shops.

Then to find a few weeks later that the beautiful majestic trees had been grubbed up, piled into huge pyres and were slowly smouldering with their life ebbing away.  Tragic and very strangely predictive of future scenes of rainforest devastation but here right under our noses all in the name of short-term profit.

Fortunately there are many cherry orchards still in Herefordshire, a county less “progressive” than Kent or just further away from London.  But so many cherries now are flown in from around the world, even the USA, with no flesh or taste and are exorbitantly expensive.

Just as, in so many things, costing the earth.

One response to “Life is a bowl of cherries!

  1. If they would taste, just how they look
    Layed out in those installations
    Fruity pyramid shapes…
    In palettes to match a season, red ones and yellow ones
    The whole mess skirted in a green
    Balancing one above the other, layer upon layer…
    until and like on a razors edge.
    In and all the same.
    Till reaching the top, and the most perfect one of all
    The mould on which the others are broken
    And inside that Rocking Horse winner
    The wood is wormy and rot….
    And a breath held
    As if exhaled, might just be enough.
    To cause… that Egyptian tomb to crash.

    Michael Burns

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