I noticed the Japanese persimmon tree immediately the first time I stepped into the yard. It was November, the tree was packed with flame orange fruits. While they were covered by an enormous black net, they had outgrown their manmade prison and had pushed through the weaving to offer their sweets to the flock of birds that were always hovering and singing in the yard. They were spectacular, a flash of color in an otherwise unruly jungle of overgrown tropical plants, long-dead shrubs and knee-high weeds. I can’t remember if I had ever seen a tree like it before, except in paintings. I turned to the realtor and remarked, “Beautiful,” and thought it would be good to liberate them if we won the bidding war.

We did.

One day,several months later, three of us found ourselves with shears, attempting to cut the net. It was an intricate and frustrating process, I kept imagining it was like untangling a whale if that whale was a tree and we were fisherman. It took many hours of sweat and cursing and by the time we were finished, I decided I would rather have the birds eat all my fruit than ever have to work with netting again.

So they did.

It is November again and most of the persimmons have been used as snack food for the yard birds. I find many still attached to the tree, with slices pecked out.

Today, I found 1 perfect non-birded persimmon and brought it inside. Then I found the remainder of the bird snack and left it for them to finish on the table outside, but not before I photographed it.