Eating a perfectly ripe apple, crisp and sweet and tangy. A pear is more sensual, subtle in taste. It is a thing of porticos, colonnades, patios dripping with wisteria; pears belong to a subtle world where one pauses to taste because there is a reason to do so. So much of the world is an apple that bursts on the tongue all sugar and tang, crunch crunch gone. But a pear slips into the mouth, soft and a little gritty, the moment deep with meaning. It promises a world that will reveal its secrets if only we pay attention.