My own little Cezanne

Maybe it was because the light was at that perfect time where it reflects off of the dome of the sky and it is that perfect blue white, but at the same time still warm; maybe it was because I was buzzing like a hummingbird on crack as I had my fifth coffee; or maybe just because these are actually really beautiful. It's weird here, I find things on the street all of the time that I love, while in NY I would be appalled that someone discarded things in the gutter, but here they were, just waiting to be discovered, in all their deteriorating glory. I like them, but I wouldn't want them in my home.

Delicious, I mean the colors and placement, not actually the fruit.