Right around now, the desert is loaded with tunas. Tunas so thick all over the ground that you can’t take a step without slipping on one. Tunas dangling from the vegetation at eye-level. Tunas flying through the air like missiles – yeehaw!
Naturally, I’m totally exaggerating.
I’m also not talking about fish, although it would probably be a much more compelling post if I were talking about fish.
I’m actually talking about prickly pear tunas - the plump, red, oblong fruits of the prickly pear cactus. They don’t really fly. In two paper bags in my fridge, I’ve now got about forty of them with their nearly invisible yet utterly devastating spines and beet-pink fleshy wounds where I twisted them off the edges of the pads.
This means that the Fall To-Do List has finally been breached.