A watermelon appears inert, settled on the soil basking in the sun. Even when small its future density transmits. Were you to watch it daily, you would be fooled into thinking nothing was happening.

But as it absorbs the heat of the sun, so does it suck water from the soil through its roots and vines. Hundreds of thousands of cells multiply, expanding the architecture of the thick rind and tender red flesh. The energy of the stars works within. It lies there, growing enormous, its heavy bulk indenting the soil. It is not graceful. If it had limbs, it would lumber and wobble, traipse clumsily along.

It does not complain about its condition. It simply exists as its nature. Ripening. Waiting. Waiting like a debutante for its presentation. Its purpose fulfilled when its inner gift is offered and accepted with thirsty gratitude.

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4 Comments on “Ripening”

  1. Winston Says:

    Interesting trip down Allegory Lane. But the metaphor breaks down for me after presentation of the inner gift. We discard the watermelon rind. And what of the seeds…?

    We have had temps in the 90s also, and no one can remember the last time it rained. Lawns, gardens, local crops, even shrubs and trees … gone or going fast. Hope your next 70 days are more comfortable for you.

  2. gerry rosser Says:

    Ah, watermelon, you’ve described it well.

    When I was a child, I hated to be sticky (still do). I have these memories of watermelon at family gatherings, and sticky juice. To this day, although I do not hate the taste of watermelon, I avoid it. The power of memory.

  3. Karen Says:

    Only another mother would recognize that this is not allegory; this is not a metaphor. Yes, I’m afraid we do in a sense discard the rind, but it too lives again, walks about, with its very heart now beating outside its body.


  4. kate Says:

    . . . you are a human watermelon, juicy and ripe! 🙂 may this find you getting your feet rubbed while you sip icy minty beverages 🙂