We have a persimmon tree.
Growing up, I looked forward to the first frost because I knew the persimmons would be ripe. As a kid, I loved eating the persimmons and then tasking my parents with slicing the seeds open to reveal the type of winter we’d have.
I don’t much care for persimmons now, but boy do my kids love them. Just like I did. They spent part of the weekend collecting persimmons in Ethan’s toy wheelbarrow. As is their way, however, they left the wheelbarrow out by the tree.