This is the tree next door and each of those little green jewels will grow into a ruby red cherry. I am looking down upon it. Out of reach. On the ground it is also – out of reach. Which means that when that mass of cherries is ripe for the picking it will be the birds who will be merrily feasting. And I will take myself off to the local market and buy a bunch and eat them in my garden, maybe two or three at a time to acknowledge the abundance of the season. In the winter I may buy four or five cherries and eat them one at a time, bite by bite, because at 30 cents a cherry (or roundabouts) my perception and perspective changes.