The autumn festivals are upon us.  The red spider lilies have shed their wispy petals.  The nights are growing longer, and I have harvested the baseball sized pomegranates from my own patio garden’s tree.

I have been fascinated by the burgundy arils since I was a child.  It was the fruit that was an absolute mission to get at those tiny bursts of goodness.  They always made such a mess, but it never bothered me.

Perhaps my interest in this fruit goes back to my DNA.  My ancestors would split them open, cook with them, and take them on long journeys.

This year I was able to raise some of my own.  Previous years I had been left with one or two golf ball sized fruits.  This year it was closer to about 10 and half of them were the size of a baseball.  I left them on the tree until they split open.  Not sure if this is the way to do it, but it just seemed like the way to go.

They were pretty sour to my tastebuds with only hints of the pomegranate fragrance.  They just burst bursted in there sweet and sour goodness.

I am thankful that I could play my little part in helping to bring some colorful goodness into the world.

The weather continues to be changeable.  I never quite know what to expect from day to day.  The skies in Japan are so clear this time of year that I can often see all the way to Mt. Fuji.  Sometimes it is just a lofty silhouette in the setting sun.  It is a reminder that I am in the land of the rising sun, and not anywhere else on this planet.

Strolling back to the station in the afternoon sun I came across a pomegranate tree with its fruit so ripe that the pomegranates were bursting open and spilling their juicy arils on to the ground.  These succulent red hues were filled with the potential to bring forth another life.  They all have the chance, under the right conditions, to grow into a lovely mature tree.  As I looked up at the fruit still hanging from its branches I wondered what will happen to them.  Will the owner come out and harvest them to feed his family and others?  Or, will they just be left to rot on the branch?  What about the seeds that fell onto the asphalt?  Surely, they won’t be able to sprout into a new tree.  Will the local wildlife in this quite suburb on the outskirts of metropolitan Tokyo come along for a juicy snack.

I find myself thinking about these issues these days and how they relate to my life.  How I try, and many people I know, go out into the world trying to spread goodness.  How much of that goodness will find the fertile soil to be able to grow into a fully formed accomplishment.  Will our labors of love be able to bring forward fruit from the tiny seeds that they came from.  It always feels good to know that the seeds one has planted gathers the water and nutrients to return with fruit.

Just some issues, topics that are wandering around in my lucidly communicating mind.

According to my metrological sources Friday was the last warm day we are going to have this year.  The weather from now forth will progressively become cooler and cooler.  It will get so cool somewhere down the road that I will be writing how cold I am and I can’t wait for spring to arrive.  This year the weather really did seem to be like an out of control faucet.  One day it was cranked to the HOT and the next cranked to COLD.  I juts got to protect myself to keep from catching a cold.

As I was making my way though a quiet neighborhood in Chiba prefecture I stumbled upon a few pomegranate trees growing wild.  The were short squat yet full of ping pong ball sized fruit.  I thought that it was rather serendipitous to find my all time favorite fruit in the semi-wilds of Chiba.  Also, since many of my family are observing the Jewish new year with apples and pomegranates I was captivated by these little fruits.  These fruits have been enjoyed for millenniums in the middle east.  They are such an odd fruit.  The seeds are  surrounded by the wine like fluid flesh.  In order to enjoy the arils of the fruit one has to work hard to separate them from the bitter white innards of the fruit.  No matter what the difficulties are in getting to the juicy bits it is always worth it.  Having to work at getting the purple pieces is part of the pleasure of the fruit.

As the seasons change so does the why in which we interact with the land around up.  For example, here in Japan citizens were encouraged to grow green curtains.  Green curtains were devised as a way to save electricity by growing climbing vine plants on a trellis over a window.  Many Japanese planted morning glories, goya (Okinawan bitter melon) even saw some grapes.  They were beautiful.  Now those that planted them to cut back on electricity now get to fill a basket with grapes, goya and other vine climbing plants.

We should all take the time to help green our world.  All it takes are are few seeds, water and love to be able to reap the health and stress relieving qualities of greening our planet.

To all my brothers and sisters celebrating Roshashauna I wish you the best of times.  Enjoy some fresh apples and pomegranates for me.

And then the good seeds shall fall from the heavens.  They shall take root and grow strong.  The roots will seek out the nutrients that nourish them and will make them grow tall and strong.  Those beautiful red arils filled with all sweetly sour juice.

Grow long and prosper!

I can not express the intense cravings that I have been suffering from over the last couple of weeks.  I have wanted to dissect and pick a part the glorious red fruit.  The Pomegranate is one of the foods that i put in the perfect food category. It has such a unique flavor that nothing else comes close too.  I came across some juice at an Indian supermarket the other day, but that only increased my need to rip into the flesh and get at those ruby seeds.  I am glad to say that they have started to appear, an I will get my fill.