The Life of a Vine

 8 June 2026

We had plenty of passion fruits this summer, and the vine didn’t stop fruiting even as winter arrived. A few days ago, my son took away the hut that the vine relied on, and I don’t think it will survive much longer. So I asked him to cut it back on the weekend.

The passion fruit vine was planted by my mother-in-law toward the end of last year. It came from a few leftover seeds from our previous plant. No one expected those seeds to grow and fruit like this.

When the vine first flowered and produced its first round of fruit, cockatoos came and ate them quite recklessly. They tried to pull the fruits off with force, and in doing so, many unripe ones fell to the ground. Sometimes they would peck a small hole, taste a little, and then leave it behind. They never returned to the fallen ones either. So many fruits were wasted this way.

But over time, they came less and less, even though the vine continued to produce plenty of fruit. After a while, I realised why. The vine had grown and wrapped itself around our old Bali hut. The fruits at the top were easy for the birds to reach, but those tucked around the structure were not. From that point on, it was mostly us who enjoyed the harvest.

I took many passion fruits to the office, and everyone loved them. Their home-grown freshness and natural sweetness brought a simple, lingering joy.

Today, I told them we had cut back the vine. Many felt a little sad. But we still have plenty of fruit to share this week.

Everything has its own cycle—from nothing to something, from young to mature, and eventually to its end. We cannot stop this from happening. We can only appreciate it, and try our best to enjoy what is given to us, as a quiet return of gratitude.

Thank you, and farewell, passion fruit vine. See you next summer.

And perhaps that is how life gently reminds us—what we are given is not meant to last forever, but to be noticed, shared, and remembered. 💗