Hi, I am a pomegranate. I’m not an apple, but I’ve got my charm. I’m certainly not for everyone, and only a few know how to handle me.
I bloom late, when all the other fruit plants are already at the height of their splendor.
At birth, I am a red flower, a very flashy but delicate little bell.
As the days go by, my beauty fades a bit. I stay small like the bell, but I’m no longer as vibrant or as delicate. I develop a tough skin, lose the bright tones that made me stand out, and, for a while, I go unnoticed.
When the other fruits reach the end of their season, when they lose their striking beauty and vanish to the ground among the leaves… well, that’s when people start to notice me. My tough skin grows larger and gradually turns a flaming red. Day by day, I mature, storing up seeds that at first don’t seem like much. But as the days pass, those seeds ripen and evolve. I take pride in them and make myself noticed more and more each day.
Autumn arrives. The sun no longer climbs high in the sky, the trees change color, and it feels like everything around me is celebrating. The tree that raised me stays lush and green, and I stand out among its leaves. It embarrasses me a little… I blush.
The sun moves lower in the sky each day, and gradually, I take on a vivid red. I tan to the point of almost burning myself, sometimes getting small brown freckles that, to be honest, make me even more attractive. It’s hard for me to go unnoticed, standing out in this nature that’s slowly losing color and shedding its leaves during these cold, sometimes gray days. Eventually, just as I’m bursting with life… someone picks me.
I’m a delicious fruit, but as I said, I’m not for everyone. The seeds I’ve carefully matured over the months are undoubtedly tempting: fiery red, plump, and full of sweet juice with an inviting tart note. But to enjoy them, you need a bit of care and sometimes even patience. Some are put off by my tough skin. Others by the fact that even after getting past it, it’s not so easy to reach the seeds. Still, others wish those seeds didn’t have any pits. In short… I don’t like simple things, I know, but it’s my way of being selective.
For instance, there’s a way to handle my tough skin. Many people are in such a rush to get to the juice that they cut me in half, but doing so means they lose almost all of me. My skin is tough, yes, but just beneath it, I’m still delicate, and the risk is ruining everything. It would be better to approach it with determination but without haste or arrogance. I’d like that white membrane I occasionally reveal to guide how to proceed. This might take a bit more time to understand me, but in the end, it will be much sweeter.
Others treat me like an orange, slicing me in half and squeezing me. They don’t bother to engage in conversation, to understand my strengths and flaws, and end up with a juice that’s not only more sour but also bitter. In short… nothing like my delightful sweet and tart flavor.
So, you see, I’m not a fruit for everyone. Those who stop at the surface will never appreciate me. Those who rush to my center with superficiality do even worse. I am a fruit for attentive people, willing to engage in a dialogue. Am I an arrogant fruit? Perhaps. But I am what I am, with my strengths and flaws… and I like myself that way.
