Figs are the most sensual fruit I know.  Plucking a sun-warmed, perfectly ripe fig, so tender, pliant, and swollen with sweetness, and devouring it on the spot is a taste of heaven for me.  I love the flavor, the textures, the colors, . . .

Our fig tree has produced abundantly this year.  when the figs first started to ripen, I was eating one or two of the ripest each day.  Then I was eating ALL the ripe figs.  Then there were more ripe figs than I could eat while standing out in the yard, with my hands and mouth smeared with sugary syrup.  I will not abandon my lovely figs to the birds of the air and the squirrels of the street, so as fruit ripens, I pick them, eat them, and bring in the surplus to eat later.

There are consequences to gorging on ripe figs.  I am now prepared to share my excess figs.  Unless someone knows of a good way to preserve them?  I should look up fig jam. Maybe I can make my own fig Newtons.

May your Sunday be as supple, sensual and sweet as ripe figs.  With no consequences.