When I was younger, asking myself questions about religion, I pondered why all the come-to-jesus stories I was hearing always happened at the lowest point in someone’s life. If god is real, why can’t we find him at our highest point in life? You know, like some sort of an epiphany?
Then one hot sunny summer afternoon, high on a mountain in the Sierra Nevada, as I was eating a ripe juicy yellow peach during an lsd trip, I found god. It was one of the most exquisite moments of my life.
And peaches and god have been with me ever since. The lsd stayed in my youth, but that's ok, the peaches are just as good without it.
I'm not going to proselytize, except for this one point: if you don't think that eating a peach can be a sacred experience, then you probably haven’t ever had a really good peach.
I prefer mine yellow and soft and ripe, from the San Joaquin valley. And the best ones aren't found in grocery stores - try a farmer's market.
So get yourself a nice ripe one, and commune with the sacred before the summer is over!
