There is a season for everything or everything has its season.
I gave the first fruits, plump and red in its natural arrangement, clinging tightly to a short bough, to the great grandmama or "Impo"of the Gutierrez family.
It made her light up remembering her sweetheart's favorite fruit. The nurse strategically hung the branch of macopas to where it could greet her till the fruits were dry and withered. Just like her, determinedly clinging to the last strand of life warmed only by the presence of her family's love and devotion.
The time to bear fruits come every season followed by when the fruits start to fall.
But before that, birds of all colors and songs, bees and insects hold their feast on every branch that offer fruits and flowers before the cycle begins again.
As for life well lived on earth, there is a season when this will have to come to an end to transition to beyond.
We will miss, just like the birds do, that summer of joy with the macopas and the people we love because the rain will soon start to fall and a new chapter unfolds.
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