When I was young, I anxiously awaited the arrival of spring to see the bright pink blossoms on our three peach trees. I was intrigued by how the fruit emerged after the blossoms fell. The trees took up most of our backyard so two of them served as second and third base. Touching any branch of the tree meant you were safe and hitting the ball over a tree was easily a home run! As the peaches matured, becoming soft and red, it was time for picking. I would always start by finding a peach at its peak, washing off the fuzz and then biting into the luscious fruit, juice dripping from both sides of my mouth. Homemade peach ice cream was the summer treat. That would come after canning bushels of fruit. In the winter my favorite breakfast was grandma’s homemade bread and a bowl of those bottled peaches. Oh how I treasure the fond memories from those generous peach trees.
Contributed by Cathy Loffredo, Tucson, AZ