We have a cherry tree, which in some years produces lots of cherries, and some years not. Part of the issue is timing - getting to the cherries before the birds do.
This year there are TONS up there. Dangling, in their almost-red glory, perfectly unpecked and pristine. Too soon to pick them (the birds think so too), so they hang there and tease me.
"The birds might get us before you do!!! Neener neener neeeeeeener!!!"
Oh I've already picked some, a few of which were actually ripe enough to eat. I'd jump up, grab a branch and pluck cherries from it, reluctantly releasing the branch with many partially green ones still hanging from it.
My father-in-law will eventually make his way over here, and armed with a bucket and a ladder, empty the rest of the tree. One year the harvest was spectacular; the next, paltry and picked over. Meanwhile I'm left to stand under the tree, my hand shading the sun from my eyes, gazing up at the high high branches heavy with fruit, and wait...
(Hey!!! I could use one of the kids' super soaker squirt guns and shoot at the birds!! I could set myself up with a comfy lawn chair... glass of lemonade... hmmm...)