At the crossroads where our little lane begins is a tree that is totally unnoticeable most of the year. Until the fall, when among the neighboring olive trees, with their evergreen leaves, it turns orange and gold.
Amidst the autumn foliage are its plump, round fruits, waiting for the day that the tree will display them in their full glory.
The day has arrived: the last of the leaves have fallen, and on the bare branches, against the pastel-colored fall sky, the bright red-orange fruits are a welcoming and cheerful landmark on our way home.
The persimmons are not quite ripe yet, but the wind brought down a few last night, which I gathered eagerly, and sliced one in half to see the magic surprise - the same one that Lecia found.
This is where we live in the autumn: at the crossroads marked by the bare tree, whose red-orange lanterns hide a magic star.
