July 4th
In my time...
July was never my month, and still isn’t. As a child, I considered July 4th to be the beginning of the end of summer; all downhill, since little by little, after the Summer Solstice, daylight was lessening. Not appreciatively so, but I knew. I just knew!
Adobe stock: a mulberry tree.
In Norfolk, VA, July 4th marked the peak of summer heat, lasting through the end of August. The air was still, the sky in a haze, and everyone was in slo-mo, so as not to exert oneself. Our dog, Josie, would lie on the grass in the shade of the giant mulberry tree—where we would climb up to sit on the branches. There were no steps to climb; we had to shimmy up the trunk to reach the branches. It wasn’t hard tho, since mulberry branches hang low. Getting down was never a problem, since we could just jump.
One day my brothers and I decided to build a fort. It was more of a platform than an enclosed fort, but it was private just the same. Along the way, we gained wisdom. We tied a thick rope to a sturdy limb so we could haul materials up into the tree, then left the rope hanging, adding friction knots every six inches or so, making ascension easier. We were fundamentally mountaineering, or so we imagined.
July 4th is at the end of the mulberry fruiting season. We ate them until our mouths were berry red—our hands too—and to our Mother’s horror, our bare feet were the shocking color of a murder scene, as we stepped all over the fruits that naturally fell to the ground.
Botanically, mulberries are not a single fruit; rather, a syncarp, or a multiple fruit—considered an aggregate fruit. Unlike a blueberry, which develops into a single unified structure, mulberries are formed when multiple small ovaries fuse together, forming a single unified structure.
We would often find tiny white worms in each syncarp, later learning that they were likely fruit fly larvae. We didn’t seem to mind, tho. I often wonder if this is why I prefer protein over most other nutrients.
When I was in High School, my parents had the tree removed. I’m not exactly sure why, but I believed my Mom was fed up with Josie and us tracking in the fruit juice. Since my parents never paid anyone to do work we could do ourselves, this in itself was a novelty. The tree was huge. It required pros to remove it. The trunk, as I remember it, was so big that a friend and I would hold hands and wrap ourselves around it to hug the tree, until we reached hands again. I, alone, couldn’t reach around it.
As I will end each of these musings, I had the most wonderful childhood, spending every minute of daylight in the great outdoors, until the street lights came home, and it was time for bed.