Cantaloupe Description

The Cantaloupe At first glance, the foundationtaloupe reflexions round and light grayish-tan, with a hint of green. From afar it awaits round and plain, about the size of a peewee soccer ball. On approach, the circular shape is less perfect with subtle dents and bumps all virtually. contact the sphere shaped proceeds are light tan lines care a dense city map with all the streets intertwining and curving around without any significant pattern, non geometric the like gridlines. On the surface, in that location are small matchbook sized patches color the skin, near more yellowness and other patches that are darker green.A particular indention looks like the fruit might shake up laid on a rock on the ground dapple it was growing. One break off, where the flower might put up once been, is the palest of yellow circles. On the opposite edge, the stubby vestige of a stem remains. This dried up nub is the brown and shriveled, slightly indented from the rest of the globe. Surro unding the stem is a dark circle of hunter green. Picking it up from the counter, the weightiness of this world-wide object seems significantly heavier than it looks, like a mini bowling ball.Despite the volume, it feels that the weight is not solid which is proven by the hollow sound the fruit adverts when tapped, like patting a child on the head. The delineated lines feel like webbing and give the fruit a rough feel, but its not an uncomfortable roughness. The experience is somewhere in between a prickly cactus and a furry peach. At this point my mind starts to wander. Should I cut back it fan out now or wait? Should I yield a break? I look outside at the fat flakes of snow coming down outside and remind my egotism to derive endure to the task at hand.There is no resentment or anger. I look again at this object I have assigned myself to detail. When I am at a loss as to how to describe something in particular my mind wandering happens more frequently. I continue to poin t my attention back to the cantaloupe as soon as I realize Ive been distracted. I hold the cantaloupe to my eye. There is a faint line of brownish green that runs through the net-like lines covering the fruit. about of the spaces between the lines look like parks because theyre darker green, while others ook grayness like the concrete of a parking lot. My mind wanders again and I start to look to see if there are any recognizable maps in squiggles. I see a roundabout that reminds me of an intersection in England and another resembles the neighborhood where I grew up. The intertwining stratums of the lines remind me of overgrown vines on a wall covering another layer of skin. The underneath layer has the timid look of green splotches, almost veins, like the streaks that run through gamy cheese. I thump the cantaloupe again. It substitutes as a drum to piddle away a tune.Apparently it has different thicknesses inside because the sound it makes when you knock it on the end is a higher pitch than when you rap it in the middle. One do must be particularly thick because the sound is more substantial. abrasion the skin makes the same sound as rubbing your hands in concert on a dry winter day. I try to make other noises using the produce, but intuition tells me that the altogether way to get another sound is to drop it on the floor. Im not willing to do that. Before cutting into the orb, I apprisal a whiff of eau-de grocery store produce aisle a twat past its sell-by date.The smell isnt strong and its only when I touch the fruit to my nose that I smell this. I thence sniff each different area of the outer layer and notice that where the flower once might have been the smell is such(prenominal) stronger and pleasurableer. I scratch my finger nails on the rough skin, but it doesnt strickle the scent the way it would with an orangeness or lemon. Its time to cut into the orb. Even as the knife makes the first gouge, clear pale orange juice escapes. I lick my fingers and find the sweet taste accented and different.Although the juice is the color of a Satsuma mandarin or a commercial worthy carrot, it tastes nothing like either. Slicing the melon in half, the cantaloupe now resembles a geode, with a plain outside and a brightly colored exotic inside. Its filled with seeds and goo in the center. The slimy innards resemble the finest angel hair pasta, but kind of of being the color of regular noodles, they are varying shades of orange, some even translucent. I carve out this gooey inside and the sweet smell now fills the air with its cloying tropical fermented flower mell. Friends who have been watching a movie in the other room develop to see if they can have some, the smell having tempted them away from what they are doing. Ironic, because Im no longer interested in the cantaloupe and pee-pee to toss it into the composting bin. I send everyone away so that I can continue on. The meaty body-build isnt too tough, nor is it too subd ued. I take a bite and let the flavor rush crosswise my tongue. The taste reminds me of summers on the farm eating the freshest fruits and vegetables straight out of the tend still warm from the sun.Theres a touch of salt in the taste, but the sweetness overpowers it. In spite the firm texture, the fruit feels balmy and chewy and the volume of nectar is astounding. The tissue is softer and moister than the similar essence of a pumpkin and more compact than the inside of a fig. Squishing the orange flesh with my fingers, it all but dissolves into juice. What little remains is the finest of strings as soft as silk. I find a seed still attached, that I missed. The kernel is a planar oval with semi-pointed ends. Like a flat football with the air taken away, but miniscule in comparison.Its almost as though the surrounding fibrous slime is profligacy in the air as I watch. I break open a seed using my fingernail. Its soft and waxy, not much there. I take a wedge of the sliced cantalou pe and look at the difference between the skin and the edible meat. Like a rainbow, the color changes from thick rind on the outside to the orange moist, fleshy mettle on the inside. Like the color spectrum, the differences in shades are subtle, but quick. A yellow stratum is the most predominant, but considering the layer in question is less than an eighth of an inch thick, this golden subcutaneous layer isnt very big.I make sure there isnt anything Ive overlooked and to check my notes for missing descriptive words. Im surprise to look at the clock and see that more time has passed than I would have expected. I went several hours without checking my watch something I can only do when Im not bored. Learning to look beyond the obvious is something I already knew how to do. I enjoy observing populate and watching facial expressions for meaning. What Im not good at it is sitting still and holding my attention for long periods of time. Exercises like this dish up to train my brain t o settle own, focus, and catch up as local anaesthetic monologuist Josh Kornbluth says. While I had to make a some self directed corrections along the way, I was fairly pleased that I was able to block out a significant amount of what was release on with family and friends in the other rooms and outdoors. Yes, there were a few times that my attention wandered, but I was back on deletion in seconds rather than hours or days. The reward at the end was to block off a paper I was happy with and to share the small divergence of the cantaloupe with my friends while on a weekend away. Mission ended