A Glut of Peaches

Cobbled, sliced, pie'd, pureed, crisped, jarred, crumbled, grilled, ice creamed, and caked; these peaches have been everywhere. It's a cruel trick of summertime. All season I bide my time just watching these orangey red beauties get bigger and bigger until all 400 of them need to be picked in a 3 day span. I take a taste of the Early Alberta's at the farmer's markets, but I know that I have my own glut of peaches that will be ready in just a few weeks. Hundreds of peaches slowly weigh down the branches so much it makes walking on the sidewalk difficult until they start to drop off the branches themselves. Then, it's time to pick. Peaches are best picked in the late evening, just as the sun sets and you can sit down on the grass and eat the biggest peach you found that night..still warm from the August sun. Juice drips down your face and off your elbow and your surrounded with boxes and boxes and boxes of peaches.

They are handed out to neighbors and mailmen, carried to coworkers, and pawned off to anyone who will take them. 400 peaches are a bit much for 3 people to eat, no matter how many peach pie recipes there are. Then, they are carefully counted (to compare with last year's crop) and the peach production begins.

I can only eat so many peaches right off the tree, so several dozen are carefully sliced into mason jars to be eaten in the far away months. Others are sliced thin and dehydrated, frozen for smoothies, or pureed into fruit leather. The others meet there end in some sort of breakfast, lunch and/or dinner option. Delicious when sliced in a bowl swirled with a little cream, or nestled in a crumbly oat topping, two by two the peaches started to disappear. Peach crumble, peach cobbler, and peach cake each took and few out of the boxes piled up in the garage until only a few dozen remained.

I'm a sucker for early morning light and peaches nestled in flour and sugar (but who isn't?)

And just like that, the peaches are gone. The trees are bare, with leaves that won't be green for all that long. It's an official end to summer. The nights have gotten a bit cooler and the last few peaches are stashed as a fleeting souvenir to the days in the sun. Fall and winter will come, spring will hint at the upcoming peach season with pinky white blossoms and the wait resumes; tiny green pods will slowly grow bigger and bigger, slowly turning orange and blush red, and the branches will slowly droop, until it's time to do it all over again.