Fearless Faith

It might be too late for me. In the category of “distractions my mother warned me about,” I failed to pay heed to the wiles and siren call of one of my greatest temptations in life. If you seek perfect form and unblemished fruit, fragrance and complementary colors that alert the senses, including a tease to the palate, then I can do no better than to recommend late summer peaches. As consumers of these golden wonders, I cannot recall a year that we were unable to polish off at least two lugs (40 pounds) of fresh peaches, consuming them all before the season truly ended. And when the harvest ran its course, we felt little obligation to have frozen or canned at least a few. After all, it simply would not be a fresh peach then, would it?

But, that’s not the heart of it. The hard part is getting past taboos of the past. I confess to sugaring already sweet peaches and allowing them to sit for a time until juice and sugar move to equilibrium. When it does, happiness comes visiting in the form of nectar in the bottom of the bowl. A teaspoon or two is all it takes to make the prep work worthwhile. It also helps to close one’s eyes when nectar and taste buds connect in a slow dance with one another. It truly qualifies as nectar of the gods.

So, what makes it so special? Many of us would declare it’s all about anticipation, knowing the likely conclusion based on experience. For others, it is more welcomed than not because of the relatively small window the growing season affords us. The more fleeting the season, the more precious the harvest. Are there biblical references that help? Not for peaches. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, though making their presence known in literature some 5,000 years ago in China. And while we are naming fruits of old, do not forget that the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden has mistakenly been identified for centuries as an apple. Yes, really.

Wind fall peaches can prove to be great resources even after leaving the tree. If one is serious about canning, the wind fall fruit can be worked up as jellies and jams. A fond memory from childhood was spending several days in a cabin on Grand Mesa and processing jam from fruit lying underneath the trees. More than a couple peaches made it into the wind fall bucket when we “accidentally” brushed up against a heavy bearing tree.

What stands out, then, in our appreciation of the golden peach? It takes the right combination of warm days, cool nights, adequate water and care in pruning to produce optimal fruit. It takes someone to nurture the trees and to act eagerly in their defense to stymie natural threats: insects, disease, frost and fire. In short, attentiveness and a willing enough nature to appreciate the fruits of one’s labors.

The basic outline is not so different for most produce. A successful life is all about nurture and caring as fruitful stewards of resources. It’s hard work. Some years work well, others offer challenges. But, at the bottom of the bowl is a reward for the effort that it takes, that teaspoon or two of nectar that is long remembered. It’s up to us to provide the metaphor.