...the season is officially over. I snagged a couple of peaches at the market this weekend and brought one for lunch today that seemed ripened to perfection.
I plucked it out of its brown paper bag, held it under my nose to inhale its sweet, airy perfume, and took a bite, with a napkin held just under my chin to catch that first trickle of juice...
which never trickled.
This peach, beautiful and fragrant as it looks, is mealy and mushy and not fit for eating.
Ah well. I had a lot of good peaches this summer so I can't complain. (And I can't promise that I won't try to buy one last great peach this weekend, should the opportunity present itself. Maybe I just got a bad one? It can be hard to tell with peaches.)
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