S emailed me the other day offering figs in exchange for the bag of quinces I gave him last autumn. Quinces? I'd forgotten I'd given him any. My mother planted a quince tree years ago before she found quinces not to be to her liking so we have a quince bonanza in October. Meanwhile S lives in a house courtesy of his employer that comes with a mature fig tree on a south facing wall, so has a fig bonanza in August. And you thought the UK was a cold, dark and wet place unable to grow these exotic fruit!
Speaking of fruit, the wild plum tree by the railway is covered in 'em. I'd like to think some traveler long ago flung a plum stone from a passing express which germinated and grew into the present slightly rambling hedgerow tree. Right now they're still a tiny bit sour, but in a week or two they'll be sweet and juicy and I'll probably give myself diarrhoea by eating too many at lunchtime.
I like this time of year!