Every year, I look forward to this exact moment. Walking out to the backyard and picking the first Asian pears off the trees I planted years ago. You’d think I was harvesting a rare delicacy from some secret orchard in the Himalayas. Nope. Just me, standing in the grass in my bare feet, grinning like I’ve won the produce lottery.
There’s something about that crisp snap when you bite into an Asian Pear that makes all the tending worthwhile. Sweet, juicy, and just a little tart. They’re nature’s way of saying, “See, patience pays off.”
My dogs have learned the sound of pears dropping from the tree and come running as though I’m tossing them tennis balls. I tell them, “Not everything round is for you,” but they’re not convinced. I usually share anyway. That’s also one of my great gardening joys, sharing with friends. And dogs.
It’s such a simple thing, filling a basket with fruit from your own backyard. And yet, it feels like one of life’s great luxuries. Maybe that’s why this season of pear-picking has become one of my favorite times of the year. Sweetness you can hold in your hand, grown by your own two hands.
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