The fig tree in front of the kitchen door is full of beautiful fruits.
Elles prennent doucement leur temps, elles deviennent énormes, se parent de violet léger, celui qui attire les merles, et ils ont bon oeil...
But this year, I wonder why they take their own sweet time to rippen, and the blackbirds have sharp eyes to see the ones that have some purple color.
I am impatiently waiting for them to mature.
Everything is ready, the cooking pot, the clean jars, sugar, the fig jam, my favorite will be cooking soon.