The poor old peach tree in my backyard about killed itself bearing fruit this summer. I wonder at its generous nature. It gives because it must. Something whispers in it's branches, "Give , Give" and it obeys, even to its own peril. Something in that free abandon intrigues me, but then I must confess, I shrink back, hoping I won't be asked to give that much.
We take from the peach tree each year, and think of my father, who loved peaches, and who died before the peach tree could bear its first crop. He used to load up his car with peaches from the fruit market, and then make the rounds to our houses, dropping them off.
And now, a new generation is giving away peaches as my daughters facebook their friends to see who wants to help us eat peaches, because our fridge and pantry is still loaded with last year's peach jam!
The tree will be pruned after its picked, another seemingly painful process. But that will only enable it to bear more next year.