While people in the east coast are expecting May flowers, we in the west are reaping fruits. Thanks to California's year-round sunlight, a small yard like mine can still grow something. For years, I have experimented with various kinds of plants and flowers. Some died, and some survive and thrive. To name a few, blackberries have been bearing fruits year after year. A loquat tree, planted from a seed, is in its second year of fruiting.  The dragon fruits sprawlingly climb to the top of the wall. What’s new this year is that the grapevine, purchased from Costco four or five years ago, also starts its fruit.  The pearly pea-like grapes, strung along, though still green, are growing fuller and rounder day by day. Though there is only one bunch, from baren to fertile, it is a breakthrough. One bunch this year could be a precursor to the next year’s abundance.
The ripening of loquat first came around in April. The surplus March and April rains could have washed away the sweetness. The first picked loquat turned out to be a bit sour, holding back my itch of picking.  And then the prolonged collection of sunlight did give rise to sweeter fruits. The overdue loquats, their skins wrinkled a bit, when peeled off, the meats inside taste like being dipped in sugar. As one after another loquat was picked and consumed, I stopped at the last one, as if keeping it on the tree would fantasize its permanent appearance. But the fear of its seeds being infested with worms soon overcame me.  The plant has its own life cycle.  Like it or not, it is time to part with it.

The moment we picked up the last loquat, we found the first dragon fruit flower blooming in the dusk. As I hurried out to the other side of the wall with a big camera in hand, I saw high up on the wooden trellis, nestled among the green sprawling branches, protrude a white flower, long and tube-like. The dozen arrow-shaped white petals are opening against green outer leaves, and in the middle, one female light-yellow tube is clustered by myriad golden male stamen. Then comes the second (06/02) and the third flower (06/03) in a sequel the following nights. When it suddenly dawned on me that they might need our assistance in its pollen transmission, I urged my husband to go up the ladder. With a brush, he strained himself to touch the high hanging flowers, brushing here and there, in the hope that the withered flowers will turn to dragon fruit cactus in weeks.

05/31/2020
The last day of May falls on a Sunday.  The brutal death of a black guy named George Floyd is like a domino that triggered nationwide protests and riots.  Unnerved we are like most people, as the looting started in the neighboring cities, we still decided to go to the beach for an outing.  The freeway looked normal, so did the beach, except that none of the visitors was wearing a mask. We consciously put away our masks in the pockets, to be mingling with the crowd. Walking in my Xero shoes on the rugged trails under the cliff, with gravels, pebbles and rocks piled by the other side, I kept a distance with the others. And without masks on, we did not linger, and was on our way back after an hour or so.  How I miss the days before March this year when we can freely roam and rove on the beach!