Let’s start the weekend thinking about the peach. The vibrant mix of fiery orange and red sweeping its surface. How sexy is that shape – with the round, fuzzy curvature and visible crack? It baits you to take a big messy bite, juice running down your chin. The sweet flesh a wake up call to recruit your sense of taste, smell and touch. When perfectly ripe on a summer day it is 100 percentage fruit – sheer delight.

I brought one to a friend in the hospital. That peach stood out like a beacon in the dull room full of grey machinery, tubes and the monochromatic hospital lunch tray. I’ll never forget the expression when he tasted it.

Where I live, finding fresh fruit can mean waiting for a truck to come in every month. The truck is packed with Georgia peaches and pecans in early summer and gorgeous Michigan blueberries added later in the season. By august thankfully I have my own home-grown cherries and raspberries.

Everything has its time, it’s season. Being knowledgable and active in seeking out fresh, local produce grounds us.
I play with metaphor here as the peach, at the right time, can be a remarkably sensual experience.

Every day life conveniences – fluorescent light, air conditioning, TV, cars, – can distance us from the earth. Savoring a peach pulls us back in.

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