It is finally cherry season here in France. Cherries are my favorite fruit. I only wish they came in the size of plums or peaches. I always eagarly await the arrival of the season. When I first spot them in a market in Paris they are at the awful price of 24 Euros a kilogram. I wait a few weeks and they are then sold at 14 Euros a kilo. Finally, they have reached prices of 6 or 7 Euros a kilo, and I start buying. They are very small at first, but still pretty tasty. In a month or so, they will be at perfection.
Our great neighbor, Octave, arrived at our door today inviting us over to pick as many cherries from his tree as we can. He says they have 200 Kilos of cherries, at least. We went over and the boughs of the trees are heavy with the fruit. Maurice and I are going over this evening to pick a big basket full.
I find cherry trees to be particularly ugly, even though ruby red fruit hangs among the leaves. It doesn’t have a pretty shape and the boughs grow too long. We have one new little cherry tree that we planted. It does have cherries in its first growing season but they are really tiny, smaller than a marble. We are thinking that maybe we should plant a few more.