Reminds of the commandment in the Torah about leaving the gleanings:
"When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Leave them for the poor and for the foreigner residing among you."
Wonderful read. Very touching final haiku. So innocent and childlike but full of life. What an epitaph. So does the astringency in a persimmon mean it's unripe? Or it was picked while not yet ripe? Love the combo of the colours of the persimmon against the blue sky.
Jeffrey! As always, I loved your photographs and your reading of the piece. And that final Shiki epigraph has delighted me no end.
So too the leaving of a single persimmon for whatever the reasons. I will pass this on to my cousin who has two prolific persimmon tree in her care and who gifted me dried persimmons recently, which were delicious.
Once again, Jeffrey you’ve offered another wonderfully interesting and insightful read. I love the idea that one persimmon is left on the tree for the birds or weary traveler’s — that’s so cool :)
Another beautifully orchestrated piece of art Jeffrey! I have a few Persimmon left on my tree for the poor and the hungry for weary passers-by. Or hungry sheep...
You excel at the contemplative walk, whether you be in Cairo, London, or Tokyo. Who knew that this fruit in Japan packed so much punch and meaning? There is a world tour, somewhere, that takes you around through fruits and vegetables, and art, but if there isn't, it's here at English Republic of Letters!
It was so interesting to hear about the culture of leaving one or perhaps some on the tree. I saw a tree in a little farm here in northern Spain in late December while out for a run. Lots of persimmons - some pecked at by the birds - and no leaves and so annoyingly out of reach. I pondered where else I'd seen them - Montenegro and Italy came to mind and they were invariably still on the tree long after the leaves had fallen. In Belgrade luscious ones were in the open air market and I enjoyed far more than my fair share.
I think many people either don't know what to do with them or don't particularly like them. One of my brothers in law here wants to plant a couple of orange trees and was discussing where. He suggested in place of the persimmon tree and we immediately shot down that idea. He claimed he didn't like them before admitting that in his 5 plus decades on the planet he'd never tried them. We got him to change his mind.
Oh and back to Belgrade a second, in Serbian they are most commonly known as 'japanska jabuka' (Japanese apple).
"Orange alabaster." Gorgeous description! I discovered persimmons when we moved to California over a decade back and promptly fell in love, so much that I planted a tree in my backyard. I prefer the apple-like fuyus (it seems most of your photos are of this type, except maybe the last), and use the astringent hachiyas solely for baking. Our season does not extend much past November, so I'm bit envious. Enjoy!
I never think persimmons look like real fruit. They look a bit like bilious tomatoes or capsicum. That matt surface and thick skin is not conducive to eating. They are for looking at against a sharp blue sky, not sinking one's teeth into.
It's funny, because I must have read that first haiku, at least, decades ago, but it didn’t stay with me then; and now it will. It's remarkable how some poems become part of one instantly, and others not until they appear in the right framework, such as this essay. The same thing happened a few weeks ago with Donne's St Lucy poem.
Lovely, both the images and the words. I do enjoy a ripe persimmon but am intimidated by this fruit , which is expensive here, and do not buy it for fear of making a bad call. I make enough of those with avocados.
I started salivating reading this! I absolutely adore fuyu persimmons, their perfumed, but more firm flesh. How lovely that you can wander the winter neighborhoods of Japan and see such beauty! And that first photo with the mejiro!
Thank you for this post. I saved our last persimmon until the very last moment, with the intent of using it in a painting but I never got around to it. It was my father's favorite fruit. I wish they grew around me. My friends in CA seem to have so many in the autumn.
As a Devonian, did you know that Bideford AFC renamed its stadium 'Persimmon Homes Stadium?' https://www.devonlive.com/news/devon-news/bideford-afc-celebrates-new-sponsor-9835186 I was there on Boxing Day watching them play Willand Rovers.
Ah, thank you for taking me back to Devon, James. I seem to recall Willand playing in bright orange? Or maybe I'm misremembering…
White, with green trim. But it may have been different in the past.
Reminds of the commandment in the Torah about leaving the gleanings:
"When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Leave them for the poor and for the foreigner residing among you."
Thank you David. It's lovely to find out about other similar practices.
Wonderful read. Very touching final haiku. So innocent and childlike but full of life. What an epitaph. So does the astringency in a persimmon mean it's unripe? Or it was picked while not yet ripe? Love the combo of the colours of the persimmon against the blue sky.
Thank you, Pilgrim! In the context of the Chiyo-ni poem, I think it means it was (or would be) plucked too soon (before it's ripe) .
Jeffrey! As always, I loved your photographs and your reading of the piece. And that final Shiki epigraph has delighted me no end.
So too the leaving of a single persimmon for whatever the reasons. I will pass this on to my cousin who has two prolific persimmon tree in her care and who gifted me dried persimmons recently, which were delicious.
Thank you, Holly! I'm glad to hear you enjoyed the piece, and the persimmons.
Once again, Jeffrey you’ve offered another wonderfully interesting and insightful read. I love the idea that one persimmon is left on the tree for the birds or weary traveler’s — that’s so cool :)
Thank you, Michael. I love the practice of leaving one for the birds or travellers too!
Exquisite! 🧡🧡🧡
Thank you, Troy!
Another beautifully orchestrated piece of art Jeffrey! I have a few Persimmon left on my tree for the poor and the hungry for weary passers-by. Or hungry sheep...
"Will it be bitter,
the first time I bite
an unripe persimmon?"
Thank you, Susie! I hope the sheep will enjoy them (if they can reach them).
You excel at the contemplative walk, whether you be in Cairo, London, or Tokyo. Who knew that this fruit in Japan packed so much punch and meaning? There is a world tour, somewhere, that takes you around through fruits and vegetables, and art, but if there isn't, it's here at English Republic of Letters!
Thank you, Lani! I’m sure there’s a grand Fruit’n’Veg tour of the world somewhere…:)
YES!
It was so interesting to hear about the culture of leaving one or perhaps some on the tree. I saw a tree in a little farm here in northern Spain in late December while out for a run. Lots of persimmons - some pecked at by the birds - and no leaves and so annoyingly out of reach. I pondered where else I'd seen them - Montenegro and Italy came to mind and they were invariably still on the tree long after the leaves had fallen. In Belgrade luscious ones were in the open air market and I enjoyed far more than my fair share.
I think many people either don't know what to do with them or don't particularly like them. One of my brothers in law here wants to plant a couple of orange trees and was discussing where. He suggested in place of the persimmon tree and we immediately shot down that idea. He claimed he didn't like them before admitting that in his 5 plus decades on the planet he'd never tried them. We got him to change his mind.
Oh and back to Belgrade a second, in Serbian they are most commonly known as 'japanska jabuka' (Japanese apple).
"Orange alabaster." Gorgeous description! I discovered persimmons when we moved to California over a decade back and promptly fell in love, so much that I planted a tree in my backyard. I prefer the apple-like fuyus (it seems most of your photos are of this type, except maybe the last), and use the astringent hachiyas solely for baking. Our season does not extend much past November, so I'm bit envious. Enjoy!
Thank you, Maria! I think the fuyus are the most common variety here (“fuyu” means winter as you probably know). I've just read that there are about a thousand kinds: Persimmon: The Fruit of the Gods — Google Arts & Culture https://artsandculture.google.com/story/persimmon-the-fruit-of-the-gods-ministry-of-agriculture-forestry-and-fisheries/nQWBAlTQQNVFIA?hl=en The kind that Skiki ate, gosho, was sweet (but difficult to cultivate).
1000! That is incredible. And fuyus everywhere...sigh.🥰 Yet another reason to visit Japan.
I never think persimmons look like real fruit. They look a bit like bilious tomatoes or capsicum. That matt surface and thick skin is not conducive to eating. They are for looking at against a sharp blue sky, not sinking one's teeth into.
I know what you mean, June!
What a lovely gift of poetry and images! These will stay with me.
I'm so glad that you enjoyed them!
It's funny, because I must have read that first haiku, at least, decades ago, but it didn’t stay with me then; and now it will. It's remarkable how some poems become part of one instantly, and others not until they appear in the right framework, such as this essay. The same thing happened a few weeks ago with Donne's St Lucy poem.
Lovely, both the images and the words. I do enjoy a ripe persimmon but am intimidated by this fruit , which is expensive here, and do not buy it for fear of making a bad call. I make enough of those with avocados.
Thank you, Rona! I know just what you mean. Pomegranates can also be tricky, I find.
I started salivating reading this! I absolutely adore fuyu persimmons, their perfumed, but more firm flesh. How lovely that you can wander the winter neighborhoods of Japan and see such beauty! And that first photo with the mejiro!
Chinese New Year is coming up soon, and growing up, dried persimmons would be a must for the occasion. :)
Thanks for the beautiful photos, the poetries, and your writing!
Thank you, Yi! Yes, Chinese New Year is almost upon us, isn’t it! 🙂
Yes indeed!
Thank you for this post. I saved our last persimmon until the very last moment, with the intent of using it in a painting but I never got around to it. It was my father's favorite fruit. I wish they grew around me. My friends in CA seem to have so many in the autumn.
Thank you for sharing your own experience of persimmons, Zina! If not a painting, how about a haiku about them?
Gold and luminous
The persimmon hangs alone
On a once jeweled tree