PLUMS OF AGE

Interesting the way the new plums, all but invisible at first and for quite a while thereafter, are hard to spot among all the plumlike leaves, both leaf and fruit at this point being the same identical shadings of curly, multigreen curvature. Not yet ready, the plums are hidden even as they swell with growth, aren't easily discerned even when I try to filter out the leaves in search of the fruits so as to get some idea of what might be in store regarding the plummy cornucopia, as I often do at about this time of year, to maybe outfox the monkeys.

But then one day amidst the summer sweetness rising everywhere the swelling plums turn a see-me green, then a daily brightening yellow, then drift toward orange, then darken to a deep, sweet, frosty amethyst, in stark contrast to the still-green leaves. Time to be easily found, because at last they're ready. The sweeter they are, the more they stand out. In their own ways, people age in much the same way.