You were lured out of your home today with the promise of perfectly ripe peaches from your farmers' market. They are like August, lush and full of summer sunlight, almost overripe after a season of sunbathing.
It is the soft fuzz on their skin that you first enjoy. You roll your thumb over it as you grip a firm peach in your hand, the white fuzz a gentle contrast to the red and yellow blush of its skin. You feel for firmness first, that tricky balance of ripe but not too ripe, a hefty weight in your hand that promises sweet juiciness without bruising or mush. You look for a saturation of rose and mustard in their coloring, not the anemic green-butter wash and faded berry stains of a fruit plucked too soon from its tree. No, you want your peach full of life and juice.
You add perhaps too many peaches to your basket at the market, telling yourself you can always make a cobbler or pie, knowing full well your edible jewels won't last that long. You pile them carefully on top of one another so as to prevent bruising. When you get home you just look at them for a bit, as if to take one out of the pile and sink your teeth into it would somehow break the spell, making you forever hungry for this fleshy fruit even after your happy pile dwindles to nothing under your voracious appetite.
But the feeling doesn't last long; that mound of ripe fruit is too tempting to resist. Eat one you must. You take the peach on the top, the one with its green leaves still attached to it and, without any attempt to control yourself any longer, sink your teeth into it, feeling the fuzzy soft skin break under the weight of your bite. Your mouth is flooded with the tangy sweet taste of its juices, your tongue rolling over the velvety softness of its flesh. You don't really pause long enough to enjoy that first bite or any of the others, but simply keep taking one bite after another of the peach as juice dribbles down your chin and hand, until there is nothing left but the pit with only a few bits of yellow flesh sticking to it.
This--this feeling of ripe sunshine in your mouth and sticky hands: this is summer.
Enchantment Learning & Living is an inspirational collection of musings touching on life’s simple pleasures, everyday enchantments, and delectable recipes that will guarantee to stir the kitchen witch in you. If you enjoyed what you just read and believe that true magic is in the everyday, subscribe here.