Harvest Peach

After a long week of stressful over-bookedness, I embarked on my first pie. Peaches are reminiscent of Georgia for me. Not only was it the place where I felt the most purpose, but it also embodies all things home, comfort and simplicity.

I tend to forget how rejuvenating mornings can be to me. They're quiet, calm and peaceful. Plus, is there anything more poetic than experiencing first hand the cool dew of the morning transitioning into a beautiful fall day? I submit to you that there is not. I could feel the life coming back into me as I drove, in silence, to the farmers market - window down, morning air rushing in, left foot so tenderly propped on the dash....life was already coming back into me.

I spent the next couple hours exploring every peach stand at the market. I had already decided when stand #3 let me sample their Lemon Elberta Peach. It was sweet and honey like, with childlike nostalgia that lingered long after you'd swallowed. Perfect. I purchased a basket, got a henna tattoo and then headed home.

One of the blessings of fresh Peach Pie is that it takes hours. Hours without time constraints, deadlines, phone calls, and, most importantly, unceasing thoughts about my next task. I could just turn off logical, responsible Sarah, and spend time focusing on each step, watching the colors and flavors come together into a beautiful creation.