My persimmons predict....

This evening I walked down to the pond and gathered up a handful of persimmons. I could smell their spicy sweet aroma before I got to the tree. Persimmons, like pumpkins, just smell like Autumn to me. However, unlike pumpkins, persimmons don't need to be cooked with spices to give off that wonderful smell.

I didn't gather these for snacking purposes though. No, these were for predicting this year's winter weather! According to folklore you can predict the weather by splitting a persimmon seed to find what the plant kernel is hiding. If you see a forked kernel, then the winter will be mild with some light powdery snow.

If you see a spoon shape, then the winter will bring lots of heavy wet snow. Lastly, if you see a knife shape the winter will be bitter cold and the wind will cut through you like a knife.

This is what my kernel looked like this year. I see a spoon, which would be just fine with me. I like snow! Last year my persimmon seed held a knife and we did have a cold winter with more than average snowfall. I enjoyed it quite a lot, but Don wasn't to thrilled as he's the one who has to go feed the horses every morning.

I don't know if this old folklore will hold true, but I do know I'm very glad we've already started our wood pile and I better order propane soon.

Oh, by the way...if you decide to split open a persimmon seed please be very careful! They are small and slippery. I wouldn't want anyone slicing off a finger!

Ye ol' persimmon tree...

Down near the pond in our front yard is one of my favorite trees...a persimmon. I was checking it out this evening and, unlike this photo that I took in late Autumn, it is currently full of leaves and big green persimmons (dare you to take a bite of one).

One year I made persimmon butter from the fruit of this tree, but we weren't that fond of it. Now I just let the wildlife and our dogs have them. Drake, our elderly Black Lab, absolutely loves persimmons. The other dogs munch on them too, but none of them are as nuts for persimmons as Drake. I've thrown a few to the chickens, but they don't seem to like them much. Sometimes Don and I will snack on a few when we're sitting at the pond enjoying the nice cool Autumn evenings.

When the house was being built we would come out on the weekends to enjoy our place. I would pack a picnic and, while Don cleared brush, etc. I would sit under the persimmon tree reading a book. Our beloved Border Collie, Huck, lived for those weekends. Sadly, we lost him to stomach cancer six years ago next month. Huck is buried under the persimmon tree along with other precious dogs we've lost...Tippy, Brawn, Bonnie and Aoife. Five markers make a semi-circle around the persimmon tree and we hope it will be a very long time before another marker is placed there.

One of these days when I am gone I'd like to have my ashes scattered around the persimmon tree. Until then I will enjoy it's beauty and delight in the sweet musky taste of its fruit each Fall.