I amble out into my backyard
The grass scratches my bare feet
The sun smiles down on me as I tug at my swimsuit
Just as I pass that old dilapidated swing set, I spot them
Those magnificent sweet treats
Memories of my past summers come flooding back
Picking them for glorious salads, or using them as “lunch for a game of pretend”
I scavenge for the perfect one
I grin as I think of all the time and effort my dad put into these plants
I see tons that have that orange-brown look to them
Those are the ones that only have a few weeks until they are perfect
Some are just babies
They still need to be nourished by the mother vine
Then, I see the perfect one
I twist it off the vine and pop it into my mouth
My teeth break the skin and the juice oozes out
So much effort was put into making this sweet treat
Love and care has been poured into every plant
Every sprinkler system and fence has been put into place for these plants
Though not by me, which makes me feel guilty for enjoying them so much
But, my dad wouldn’t want them to just be gazed at
Like a statue in a museum
No, rather, he planted this fruit for everyone to share
I pick a bunch of perfect ones and walk past the dilapidated swing set once more
As I walk back, I think how much these sweet treats are loved
And how much the person who planted them is, too