Watermelon is in my blood. Still, after all these years, it’s my favorite food. There are other foods, exotic — and cuisines and culinary experiences — but nothing compares to the pure delice of watermelon.
Her texture: exquisite crunch, voluptuous softness, like the finest crushed ice warmed to a perfect temperature ice never could sustain.
Her taste: sweet, but never too sweet – always a revelation.
Even as a child – in the picture above – I had already learned the art of saving one bite of the deep, sweet heart of the watermelon for the encore.
Once upon a time, my grandmother taught me to hold the barbed-wire fence for her, and then she for me, so we could crawl into the watermelon field across the way and take this orb of pure pleasure home – while the field hands watched and shook their heads.
Looking back I think my grandmother was hardly old at that time. Certainly no older than I am now.
Once upon a time I heard my father say that someone should bottle watermelon juice. I heard the wonder in his voice at what a marvel of life this juice is, and what an equal marvel that the world at large could be unaware of its magnificence.
Watermelon is in my blood.
…one of my favorite songs from you since we saw and heard you first time life in the late 90ties in Mainz/Germany. Perhaps you remember, our last meeting in Leiden/Netherlands besides the coffee machine about 4 years ago? We hope to see and hear you again some times in a concert in Europe.
How could I forget that incredibly musical coffee machine in Leiden, Fritz – and the fun of sharing it with you. I hope I get back to Germany soon. I miss my tours there!
I am waiting and waiting and hoping that I get a chance to see and hear you in Hamburg Germany ……please get here
I hope so to, Mary. It’s time for a visit to Germany — and I need some more Metavirulent!