The Problem with Persimmons

I recently noted that the local nursery has a few Persimmons in stock: little whippets of trees bearing golden orbs that look too good to be true... Since you so rarely see full-grown Persimmons on the North Shore, I took some post-leaf-drop shots of Jim n' Wren's trees (same garden as the prior post's banana grove) and the uncommonly abundant crop this year.

You often don't know what sort of crop you have until leaf fall because they're hidden so well. By the end of November (haven't been here since...August?) a few light frosts have damaged most of them. (Pause for rending of hair.) I know, because I pole-pruned a Safeway-bagful for the neighbour, who wanted to make jam. Persimmons aren't the tangiest fruit at the best of times, so when I returned on Monday (a much nicer day--see title bar photo!) I got the local jam-report: "Terrible!" I couldn't help laughing at how vigorously he delivered his report. And then he said it's the second year he's made "terrible jam" but he just can't bear to see food go to waste so he's determined to make it...
I figure persimmons are best eaten fresh. Next year I'm gonna make a point of rummaging around 20 feet up there in September/October to save him his torture.

The trees themselves are very nice shade trees--though a rather weedy tree where they are indigenous in the more southerly States. So I'm judicious with pruning, and just tend to remove twiggy/dead branches to create a more open centre looking up from below. Any largish cuts result in vigorous suckers shooting for the moon. If you let it, the tree will almost touch its branches to the ground like a skirt, creating a lovely green gloom under the dome (*if you clear out the centre*). So we keep it crown-raised so you can walk under it, and in all, I do like the shape of the bare winter branches, and the remaining fruits are beautiful in the evening light.