Its scent is magical, and elegant, and its flavor unique in all the world. And I can think of no color in nature that rivals that of the peach, which has been at its picking peak over the past month here in The Peach State.
I selected just one peach from its display in our local grocery, and placed it carefully in my shopping cart. It was firm, unblemished, glowing. I brought it home and made a portrait of this specimen, to preserve its vitality. Then it took up residence on my kitchen countertop where I admired it, at first, and then lost track of the time it had been there, as if it had some sort of permanence in my life.
And suddenly – seemingly overnight – it was changed, still lovely to look at, but having lost both its peachy glow and that fleeting vitality. There would be no going back now. The process would accelerate. Soon all I would have is the memory, and the image.
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