Apparently I can choose when to pick these? Apparently, it’s up to me.
The green are a little under for my picking tastes. Too much webbing. Too little food for the effort lacking strings.
The tinged are trying. Almost there. String but not strongly so.
The robust red. The insistent burgundy. The no-confusing-you. Those are the ones, I think. Those are the beauts.
At least, until we cook them and study once more.
plumdirt 
I don’t even know black eyed peas, and the string thing escapes me, but now I think I like them. Mostly because of the word music in paragraphs 3 & 4. (I’d call them stanzas myself. If fact, the whole thing is like that. Fun to read, hard to forget. Good photo too.)
I love the idea of word music.