In high school I still remember then I would climb up a big persimmon tree to pick the fruit. It was in the backyard of one of my friend's Grandfather's house and we would go there to work on his car. He was afraid of heights so I was to only one that would climb up and toss them down to him. It turned into a game at one point because he couldn't see me but I could see him and I would throw them to him though the limbs and leaves.
This great picture of a persimmon fruit reminded me of those times. I would pick hundreds from that tree all the same orange color as this one and my Mom would make bread. The limbs with the bark I had touched so many times I still remember as being so strong under my weight. Only difference is the clear ice and white snow that hangs from it.
Thank you very much for reading.
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