And I was really quite taken by how beautiful the inside of a pomegranate is. The seeds are tucked into the fruit in clusters and they're so vibrantly pinkish-vermilion that they almost look like little candies. You can use your fingers to gently loosen them from the skin of the fruit and where they were nestled, a tiny little imprint is left. It's such a strange fruit and I found myself marveling at it as I peeled back the layers and collected the seeds in a bowl. It wasn't nearly as quick as, say, peeling an orange, but it was oddly therapeutic.
All of this reminded me of a lovely article I recently read on pomegranates. It's a celebration of the imperfect, a beautiful reflection on how it is often the scarred and bruised and ugly fruits that produce the sweetest, most divine flavor. I loved the piece when I read it a few days ago and have new appreciation for it now that I've experienced the beauty of a pomegranate firsthand.
