The summer seeds have been sown; the saplings have flourished; the proverbial fruit is now ripe for the picking. Yes, it is the season of nostalgia, which always seems to grow in abundance this time of year.
With the first cool winds, I can't help but reflect on my summer adventures, which I feel deep in my belly like a ravenous hunger.
I think about my two-week road trip out West: the wild cherries in northern Washington, the thumb-sized blackberries in central Oregon, my first authentic "elote" — grilled Mexican corn on the cob smothered in "crema," a Mexican dairy product prepared with cream and buttermilk, and dusted with cayenne — one of the most satisfyingly messy experiences of my life, at a California "carniceria," or butcher shop.
I think about watching the muscadines slowly ripen along the banks of the Ocoee River once I returned to the Southeast. And when that last piece of fruit finally falls, I wonder, what comes next?
The summer may be ending, but I am certain that more delicious adventures await.