On my morning walks at the moment I pass a line of pepper trees that overhang the road to the roundabout. Anyone going to Las Chafiras or heading for the motorway must drive under them, but to see their full glory you should really be walking.
Millions of peppers on each tree create the impression of a pink blush in the morning light, and the ground beneath the trees is littered with fallen seeds, still encased in their papery pink coats.
Not all the trees ripen at the same time, so some are still in flower, some have bunches of immature green seeds, some are already dropping their fruit.
The scent is bitter-sweet - think of the smell of a pepper sauce on your steak, subtract the cream, and you'll get some idea. Even brushing your hand over a twig of the feathery leaves is one of nature's gifts.