We went to a barbecue this afternoon and saw the most amazing peach tree. Peaches, all velvety and ripe and one fruit-stepchild, hanging from the tree, nestled in amongst the branches, perhaps hoping not to be seen.
It can't be seen from the house, only when you are almost in the trees.
Maybe it thinks it's safe.
And it may be. Unless someone comes to pick peaches and discovers there's an impostor, residing in the branches. 
I'm hoping for non-discovery. At least not yet. Not until whatever it is is ripe and can give a hearty laugh and juicy sweetness to it's owners. 
2 comments:
If only the little lonely peach knew such a to-do was being made over him. I think it would bring him such joy. Maybe the pictures tipped him off.
Is it a peach or a squash?
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