Saturdays are my mornings to sleep in.
Of course, I can sleep in any morning; I'm retired. But I have had 61 years of practices with Saturday sleep-ins.
This last Saturday, I heard some commotion in my court yard. The gardener was there with two other men. A quick glance at one of them told me the cocos were about to be trimmed.
But the gardener needed me to be a part of this landcapiong morality play. My truck was parked close enough to the coconut palm that it might get banged up once the palapas and coco cannon balls started falling.
Then, he remembered my ankle. But no problema. The third fellow in the trio knew how to drive.
Once the truck was out of the way, the trimmer went to work. I did not get my camera out in time to see him climb the bottom portion of the palm, but you can see his technique. Without aid of a rope, he used his feet and hands to scramble up the tree. His only rope is the tether to his machete.
Once at the crown of the palm, he cuts out all dead growth, cleans up the other debris that collects in palm trees (you don't want to know), and cuts the ripe coconuts.
It appears that the common practice is to pay the trimmer in coconuts. That does not sound like much, but coconuts are a valuable commodity in these parts -- even though they grow everywhere. In some places, money does grow on trees.
And it reminds me that I should never complain about the work where I am about to return. I could be making my living cleaning out bird carcasses.