One summer evening a few years back, I noticed the wind rustling through the leaves of the cherry tree outside my kitchen window. How odd, though, that only one part of the tree was moving. Just when I realized there was no wind, I spotted a raccoon paw slowly reach out to grab some of the fruit hanging at the end of a branch—I had caught him mid-feast! I laughed quietly to myself, careful to not disrupt his foraging and relieved that someone was enjoying them—they were much too sour for me to know what to do with them. The next morning, the ground was dotted with half-eaten cherries, and it reminded me that their season here is so brief. I took my cue from our adorable cherry thief and picked some up to bring home, with a bit of extra to make ice cream.
