It's about this time of year in Hawaii when I start feeling gluttonous. Fruit gluttonous.
I arrived home from Tokyo at the perfect time for mangos. I was feeling positively decadent about eating an entire mango myself, especially ones as luscious as Pam's. The tree is so full that even between the three abodes holding nearly 14 willing pickers (counting Adam and kids), we will probably end up letting a few go bad.Our anniversay hit today, just in time for a hike into Green Valley that revealed trees laden with mountain apples. Did I say "laden"? More like "leadened." The branches were lined up and down with perfectly drip red fruit and I bemoaned the fact that I had left my camera at home. I seem to do that a lot. We didn't even bother too much with lilikoi fetching, since we were full up on mountain apple which Amaya happily munched to and from the flumes.
Jake enjoys this time the most. I think of him as a fruit hunter. He becomes a kid climbing trees, combing through branches, and saddling up his goods to head home. He cleans, cuts, and juices the fruit while I just pluck pieces of mango, chew it up, and happily digest.