There are some pictures that I only want to take once, and then I am done. This doesn’t happen much anymore . . . mostly this occurred as I was learning and had an ongoing list of photographs I wanted to try. This was part of learning the craft and developing my voice.
These days I like to sink deeply into my work and into the subject. Such is the case with these persimmons. I’ve tried to take photos of wild persimmons several times over the years, and always with mixed results. The tree can be a scraggly grouping of branches with a handful of persimmons on the side of the road or a robust trunk with cascading branches heavy-laden with fruit. The leaves are usually curled and dry with brown spots and holes.
I’ve been visiting this persimmon tree, located in an old cemetery, almost every day, waiting for the fruit to ripen. My mother warned us as children not to eat persimmons because they would “turn your mouth inside out.” This was enough to scare us and we never tried the persimmons that grew wild near the beach at home. Persimmons are astringent and will immediately dry out the inside of your mouth if they are not ripe. And ripe for a persimmon means mushy with the skin so fragile it almost melts in your hand. The flesh is sweet and sticky and can be used for jams and puddings and cakes, and even candy.
Persimmons ripen from mid-September on up to November, and I am hoping they will last until the first frost for more picture-taking. This is joyful work and I keep reminding myself to wait, pause, and slow down.
