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O, to take what we love inside

August 26, 2017


What lovely late summer days we have been having. Not being a lover of heat and humidity, I give thanks for highs in the 70s. Two nights ago the low was in the 40s at our cabin in Wonder Lake.


These are days to savor fresh fruits and vegetables that are at their peak this time of year: melons, corn on the cob, tomatoes, to name a few.


I grew up in Colorado and to me nothing beats a peach from the Western Slope of the state. In recent years, if I am visiting Colorado during August I delight in a mouthwatering peach, or a homemade peach pie baked by my mother. Sometimes my parents have even mailed me a box of Colorado peaches!


The best peaches in Colorado come from an area outside the small town of Palisade. In addition to fresh peaches and other produce, they have peach soft-serve to die for. Earlier this summer Ernest and I were visiting Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, and remembered having the peach ice cream several years ago. Thanks to a picture on my iPhone, we were able find the farm that sells it, drive a little out of our way, and eventually feast on a large dish of peach pleasure.


This week I came across a poem about peaches, but as poems go it is also about life, and taking what we love inside. May these words nourish you during these late August days.




From blossoms comes 

this brown paper bag of peaches 

we bought from the boy 

at the bend in the road where we turned toward   

signs painted Peaches. 


From laden boughs, from hands, 

from sweet fellowship in the bins, 

comes nectar at the roadside, succulent 

peaches we devour, dusty skin and all, 

comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat. 


O, to take what we love inside, 

to carry within us an orchard, to eat 

not only the skin, but the shade, 

not only the sugar, but the days, to hold 

the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into   

the round jubilance of peach. 


There are days we live 

as if death were nowhere 

in the background; from joy 

to joy to joy, from wing to wing, 

from blossom to blossom to 

impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.


Li-Young Lee, “From Blossoms” from Rose. Copyright © 1986 by Li-Young Lee.

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