A sunny morning in central Wyoming with 50 degrees and some gentle air movement.
That's interesting, Mike. I've eaten prickly pear fruit, but I'd have to be mighty hungry to snack on mesquite beans. Both proliferated around our house in Kingsville, TX.
In college, my graduate ecology class took a four day field trip to the central California coast when the prickly pear fruit was ripe. Someone mentioned it was edible, and before we knew it, our beloved yet clueless ornithologist had pulled a fruit and bitten into it without peeling it first. He got a mouthful of glochids. I spent a considerable amount of time that afternoon using Swiss Army knife tweezers to pull the ones I could see out of his lips and tongue. His girlfriend was too grossed out to do it.
No greater love hath a scientist than to pull thorns from a fellow scientist's tongue.
I've wondered how long it was before it was safe to kiss the poor guy again.
Mind the thorns.
