Sweet cherries

I have a lot of childhood memories of cherries. It is now in our garden there are only grafted cherries, that is, these trees do not grow too tall. And once in all the surrounding gardens grew only wild cherry trees, which we, the kids, loved to climb. The berries on such cherries, which grew from the stone, were not very large, but if they were already left in the garden, they were definitely sweet. It was especially cool when black cherries grew in your garden. Oh, we ate them then, our hands, lips, and often all our clothes were rich cherry color, which made our mothers not too happy because they must wash. Also such old trees had rotten branches and there were cases when they broke at our feet. Apparently only the guardian angel saved us from serious injuries and it is good that our parents did not see it, otherwise they would definitely have more gray hairs.

Sometimes we had to "earn" our freedom to eat cherries, we were given a basket, a bucket or some other vessel and instructed to pick cherries for compote. And what a delicious compote came from those cherries, especially black. It was a pleasure to open a three-liter jar of cherries in the winter, to geta large metal pot of canned berries and just spit out the seeds in a vessel. Sometimes there were so many of these bones that they could be used to load a shotgun. These are my sweet cherry memories when I walk under these blossoming cherries.