All my birds love figs - ALL of them from the tiny finches to the cockatoos! And they have a special place in my heart not only because I really like them but because when I was a child, my parents had a summer house with a huge backyard that had a few fruit trees and, one of them (in a space all for itself because it was HUGE) was an old fig tree that would be covered in figs by February. And, as my family always went to the summer house for this entire month (classes started mid March), we kids would climb it (WITHOUT my parents permission and knowledge) to pick and eat the figs. And we had to be super quick because, once they ripen, the quakers flocks would come every day to eat until there were none left, they loved them so!
As we are on the time of the year when fresh green figs become available, I thought you would enjoy learning about this fruit -which is not really a fruit but a bunch of little flowers enclosed in peel (how cool is that?).
Now, the thing with figs is that they are super high in sugars so they are not something that should be given often but, as expensive as they are, this is kind of like a blessing in disguise (at least for me who needs two little baskets to feed everybirdy!).
http://www.newyorker.com/tech/elements/ ... st-popular
http://lifestyle.iloveindia.com/lounge/ ... -1707.html
And, as an extra treat and for whoever is interested, a poem titled "The Fig Tree" by Juana de Ibarbourou, a poet from my country that is also known as Juana of America. (As a child, I would always 'tell' our fig tree that she was beautiful, too, just because of this poem)
In Spanish:
http://www.poemas-del-alma.com/juana-de ... iguera.htm
In English (my own translation because I couldn't find a single one that was any good online):
Because it's rough and ugly,
because all her branches are gray,
I feel sorry for the fig tree.
In my orchard, there are 100 beautiful trees:
round plumb trees, straight lemon trees
and orange trees with shiny buds.
In spring, they all cover themselves with flowers around the fig tree.
And the poor thing looks so sad
with her crooked branches that will never dress themselves in tight flower buds.
And that's why
every time I pass her by,
I say, trying to make my accent sweet and joyful,
"It is the fig tree the most beautiful of all the trees in the orchard!"
If she is listening, if she understand the language I speak,
what deep sweetness will nest in her sensitive tree soul!
And, maybe at night,
when the wind is fanning her crown,
drunk of joy she will tell him:
"Today, I was called beautiful!"




