Our cherry trees are having a big year. In the nine summers we've lived here, this has only happened once before, in 2006. That year was notable for the very large bear who dropped by daily to satisfy his sweet tooth. We may have managed to scare him off with loud noises, or perhaps he only switched to the night shift and left when the cherries ran out.
If you're wondering where I am, I'm probably pitting cherries. These are small, sour, white-fleshed cherries, ideal for pies and jelly, too small for the cherry pitter, too delicious to leave entirely to the varmints. I'll be on the porch, watching the birds (cedar waxwings and scarlet tanagers as well as the usual robins and woodpeckers) consume the unreachable cherries. Perhaps this year's sunflower seed aficionado will come back for some desert.