Fragrant Stones

No, it's not a lime, it's not some tropical fruit, and it's not a tennis ball. So what is it? It's a Black walnut, joined by one of its enormous pinnately compound leaves that I plucked from campus! I recently took interest in this species upon moving to Montague and discovering them to be a popular ornamental (a close third behind Sugar maple and Sycamore). I regret that I have long overlooked this native tree, whose empty shells I remember finding in the swamp behind my house in Seekonk, expertly de-nutted by industrious squirrels. But now I discover them anew, and admire them more for the novelty of a second first impression during this more pensive time in my life. I find the fruit as a whole to be very aromatic, especially when squeezed, sharp and citrus-like while still green, then ripening and mellowing to a sweeter rounded fragrance reminiscent of the store-bought English walnut, although quite different with its "strong, nutty native vigor."

I do not generally like walnuts, but the experience of tasting a native fruit intrigues me enough to venture a bite. This product of our rugged New England soil, its shell as hard and stubborn as the rock-strewn hillsides, provides me with the opportunity to literally taste the landscape that surrounds me, as I do with wild berries and grapes and local farms and dairies. The dairies and farms fulfill the human side, and the berries give flavor to the foliage, but I expect that this walnut will put me in tune with the very ground that supports my daily steps, having such a sweet earthy aroma "suggesting a tree that has its roots well in amid the bowels of nature." Thus anticipating the experience, I will be sure to enjoy it properly on both objective and subjective levels. Now, if I can only figure out how to extract the nut without staining my hands black or pulverizing the kernel!