Organic Object: Coconut

I am curious about the fuzzy little hairs on the outside of the coconut. Why are they there? The coconut looks like it could be the size of a baby’s head. It honestly is more similar to a baby’s head than I had imagined. It has the same fuzzy hairs as a baby has when it is first born and it is about the same shape. Does a coconut have good nutrients, nutrients that we need as humans? I am curious if it is purchased often from grocery stores. Do families go to the grocery store to buy coconuts? I can’t imagine this product being apart of my mom’s weekly grocery shopping list. If it was apart of the list and I saw it in my refrigerator, I don’t think I would be too sure of what to actually do with it. How do you eat it? You can’t peel it, you can’t bite into it, you can’t cut it up on a cutting board. The only way I can really think of getting it open is chucking it at a cement or tile floor, but that doesn’t seem very efficient.

Where did this specific coconut come from? Did it come from someplace exotic, like Fiji? Did it come from an ordinary palm tree off the side of the highway in Florida? I wonder if coconuts are valued more in tropical places where they grow, versus places with not a sight of palm trees for hundreds and hundreds of miles. Or maybe they are not valued in tropical places at all because they are so common. This fruit is so mysterious. Where I live, here in Leesburg, coconuts don’t seem to be too valued or appreciated. So are coconuts really appreciated at all? I can’t think of a good purpose for a coconut besides the sweet aroma it gives off in scented candle or being the sweet garnish on top of a store bought yogurt parfait. Maybe I am bias because I strongly dislike the taste of coconut, but why are they really on this planet? Who or what couldn’t live a day without a coconut?

 

2 thoughts on “Organic Object: Coconut

  1. I used repetition in my writing to emphasis the parts about the coconut that I found to be most intriguing. I repeated “fuzzy hair” in the first few sentences to draw the reader’s attention to how odd I believed the hairs were. I used an anaphora at the end of the first paragraph, repeating “you can’t” at the beginning of multiple clauses, so that the reader recognizes the limitations of eating a coconut. I tried to incorporate repetition as much as I could in my blog post to help the readers understand the main points I was trying to get across.

  2. Mia, I love the concrete imagery with this: “I don’t think I would be too sure of what to actually do with it. How do you eat it? You can’t peel it, you can’t bite into it, you can’t cut it up on a cutting board. The only way I can really think of getting it open is chucking it at a cement or tile floor, but that doesn’t seem very efficient.” Your “you can’t”‘s get across a lot of various actions. I could see a five-second video of it with a very light tone! Sell the movie rights!

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