I love fig season.
I don't like dried figs.
I don't like Fig Newtons.
I like tree-ripened, fresh figs.
I like to stand barefooted in the grass, with my arms and face buried in the giant, fragrant leaves as I search for the perfectly drooping fig, just waiting for me to rescue it just before it drops to the ground, soft and squishy.
I like to photograph them, too.
I love figs.