Some years, I hardly buy any pears, sometimes none at all.
Other years, the pears are plentiful, tasty and reasonably priced. These are what I call pear years. During pear years, I buy quite a lot of pears.
I am happy to say that this has been a pear year.
There is nothing quite like a ripe, juicy pear. The wet, smooth, melt-in-your mouth texture of sweet, mellow pear flesh is even a pleasure to slice with a knife, let alone taste on your tongue.
Isn't it amazing that such deliciousness should grow on a tree, in the sunshine, and be good for you?
Once I was at a luncheon, and they served a fancy salad. The salad contained a number of exotic ingredients and a lovely vinaigrette dressing. Oddly, interspersed amongst arugula, radicchio, spinach, goat cheese, glazed walnuts and huge glistening blackberries, there appeared to be wedges of unpeeled boiled potatoes. I picked around the potatoes for awhile before I finally steeled myself to do the right thing and eat them too. Imagine my surprise when my teeth sank into Bosc pear, a perfectly ripe, sweet, juicy Bosc pear, and not a boiled potato at all. Few surprises in my life could rival the unexpected delight of that one.
Pears are just so good.
I am thankful for pears, and to God who made them. What a wonderful gift He dreamed up for us when He thought of a pear.