The Story of the Lone Fig

Our potted fig tree—the third since moving to a new house—is an adolescent Lattrula fig (Ficus carica).

All summer we watered the fig, and I cooed at its growing leaves, which became the subject of several sketches and water-colored paintings.

Toward the end of summer the tree produced one fruit on an upper-most branch.

We checked the fig daily.

It ripened slowly, turning a rich sheen of yellow-lime, swelling delicately.

The day came at summer’s end when the fig was ready to drop from the tree, so we picked the fruit, split it, and ate it.

It was sweet, like honey, and just soft enough against your teeth.

This was the only fig our tree gave us this summer.

And it also gave us a lesson:

“When one is enough.”

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15 October 2018

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