The garden is filled with fruit that just ain’t ripe.
The peaches are blushing prettily, but they still aren’t ripe!
The pears look nearly perfect, just not ripe.
The tomatoes are just barely starting to show some color. Not ripe at all.
Even the mulberries look black, but they’re really dark red and TART! Not nearly as ripe as I thought.
All I’ve got for ripe fruit are the intensely tiny Alpine strawberries.
As I’m still eating up frozen raspberries, I really shouldn’t complain but — This is taking forever.
Writing Every Day 