Or do they?I am sure you remember being a kid when they brought out the watermelon. For us it was usually at a grandparent's house. It would maybe come from a cooler, as its big oval self wouldn't fit in the fridge full of food intended to feed aunts, uncles, a ravening horde of kids, and adjacent relatives.
It would be dark green on one end shading to whitish green on the other and beading with moisture in the sticky summer heat.
You might have just come from running under the sprinkler and be dripping a bit yourself. For sure no one wanted you sitting on their lap.
Then the knife would come down and saw and hack and the slices would fall away in gleaming pink splendor. It was hard for a kid to wait their turn, but soon, bendy paper plate in hand, off you would go to devour like a wolf what I have heard described as sweet, pink, fog.
Everyone dealt with seeds in their own way. There were jokes about what might happen if you swallowed one, with knowing looks from the adults at certain of the aunts who might be adding to the cousin count someday soon. There was a fair amount of spitting of them from rogue brothers and admonishments for same from fake-glaring grandmas, who were really the most indulgent people on the planet.
But the bottom line was that it was good. So sweet, so meltingly delicious. Watermelon was an icon of summer, remembered fondly all year.
Fast forward to now. We still buy watermelons out of big boxes at the supermarket, and we still eat them. However, like so many childhood delights, the glow seems to have faded along with the flavor. We like them, but there is always some left for the chickens to peck.
I figured that our tastes had changed as often happens. I mean, hey, look at cheese. I absolutely hated it as a kid and now it is one of my favorite things...but I digress.
The other day, as we perused the birds on Lynk Street, which is actually a fine rural road out by Bella Terra Farm, we passed an Amish pumpkin stand. You can find them all over, with fat, glowing orange orbs for sale for a fraction of what the English stores ask. (In this case a buck for one the size of a bushel basket.)
So we stopped and grabbed a couple, one for the stump at the bottom of the driveway and one for Peg to carve. We noticed that they also had watermelons, huge, nearly square lumps of different shades of green and grey. Also only one dollar each.
We passed on them at first but then went back and bought one. What the heck? If we didn't like it the pigs and chickens would, so there was no way to lose.
At home I jabbed a knife into it to discover that it had a rind like a rock. However, I persevered and got it gouged and sliced into edible chunks. It was loaded with black seeds like fat black bbs only flatter and bigger.
It also tasted like summer childhood. Sweet, succulent, melt away in your mouth like that pink mist we mentioned, and leave you smiling and thinking of more all day.
Turns out our taste buds hadn't changed, the watermelons had. We ate watermelon for days and they were good days indeed.
We also went back for another, but the huge ones were all gone, with normal sized little ones instead. We bought one anyhow, and it is waiting in the kitchen for someone to get hungry and get out the knife.
Meanwhile there are also two little cups of seeds from the big one drying in the kitchen. Guess who's going to try their hand at growing watermelons again next summer.....
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