Hard to believe. This tiny green capsule with it’s wide, thick brown collar of spent florets will be–in a couple of months–a fresh, ripe pawpaw. If I’m on my toes and beat the wildlife, I’ll come back to this tree to pick it, peel back its thin yellowish-green skin and stuff the pale yellow custard in my mouth, being careful to preserve the 6 or 8 polished brown seeds inside. I haven’t managed to raise one yet; the squirrels always dig up and carry off the seeds. But I’ll keep trying!
Mother Nature is always pregnant. Always. If not with pawpaws, then with ‘possums. Or bears. Or indigo buntings. Or…. any other of the myriad creatures, microscopic to magnificent. Creation is the very definition of expectation.