Well not an ode really, more of a glutton's rant. Of all the peaches that I have eaten in my long life my favourite kind is the white fleshed peach.
Once upon a time in the dark old days it was rare to eat a peach that hadn't been home grown, living as we did in the far arid reaches of the state. To compare a store bought, gassed, stored, transported and probably predigested peach with the glorious ones of memory is to compare a "like" with a passion.
BUT, yesterday the impossible happened, a peach (a white fleshed peach moreover) in all of it's peachy perfection landed in my shopping trolley and more than lived up to my (usually disappointed) expectations.
I brought that beauty home, meaning to paint it before I ate it and this sad etegami is the proof of what happened next.
Once upon a time in the dark old days it was rare to eat a peach that hadn't been home grown, living as we did in the far arid reaches of the state. To compare a store bought, gassed, stored, transported and probably predigested peach with the glorious ones of memory is to compare a "like" with a passion.
BUT, yesterday the impossible happened, a peach (a white fleshed peach moreover) in all of it's peachy perfection landed in my shopping trolley and more than lived up to my (usually disappointed) expectations.
I brought that beauty home, meaning to paint it before I ate it and this sad etegami is the proof of what happened next.
"A glutton's rant"--wonderful. Your tale and etegami evoke the juicy ghost of a perfect peach...
ReplyDeleteAs discretion is the better part of valour, so too eating is the better part of peach appreciation, and I think you made a wise choice! I have just greedily devoured your posts for the last month, & look forward to 2013 with origa-me origa-me in Blogland.
ReplyDeleteHaha! Great story. And I'm so glad you got a peach worthy of your memories!
ReplyDelete