Peach Picking Season

It's June, and in Texas Hill Country -- which Austin sits at the very eastern edge of -- that means peaches.

We didn't get around to peach picking last year, and though we did in 2006, Carson was too young (one) to really appreciate the fun. So we set out this past week to haul in a half-bushel of peaches by our own sweat and muscle. (We missed strawberry season this year as well, but as long as we get one or the other, it's enough.)

In recent years only two orchards still have pick-your-own hours. In 2006 we went to Psencik Farms, but this year we returned to our 2005 pick site, Marburger Orchard. Carson was a mere baby last time we were here, lying on a blanket underneath the peach trees. This time he got to help, and engaged the picking action with gusto.

Peaches! Peaches!

We got the standard half-bushel carton, strolled down the orchard lane to the ripening trees -- Harvester peaches were in season. The trees were heavily laden, and the picking was easy. I showed Carson how to give the peach a twist and tug; those ready for picking pop off easily, and any that resist should be left hanging. I gave Carson a shoulder-ride for a bit so he could reach the higher fruit. Both kids couldn't pick fast enough; we were in the trees maybe 20, no more than 30 minutes before the carton was topped off.

Amalie tops off our half-bushel.

So many choices (and this is only one branch).

One side benefit of picking your own peaches is getting to eat a few, as fresh as possible, immediately off the tree. Most that we picked went into the carton, of course, but I found at least two that were at critical sweetness, demanding to be eaten. I left nothing but the pit (Harvester peaches are freestones; the pit comes free easily).

A sweaty headband, a smear of sunscreen, and a bursting peach... a moment of Heaven on Earth.

Marburger kindly has one of their hands drive around with an electric cart, helping haul the filled cartons back to the parking lot. Amalie lifted the carton onto the cart -- pretty good, it weighs around 25 pounds full -- and both kids climbed aboard, leaving Val and me to saunter back up the lane at our ease, under the big Texas sky, a perfect blue afternoon, hot but not brutally so, humidity comfortable.

The day's catch draped jauntily over the fender, the intrepid peach hunters set out back to the lodge for a hearty dinner and an evening of tales of adventure.

The kids rinsed off at the pump and drank their fills, we bought the orchard's last green beans of the day, and repaired to historic Fredericksburg for a delicious German lunch, knockwurst and pastrami and potato salad and such, with a last visit to the local ice cream parlor. Both kids were fast asleep when we pulled into the driveway while the sun was going down.

Since then... the peaches are ripening, perfect for eating. I sliced up about 25 and brought them to Carson's Montessori school on Friday, where the kids gladly wiped them out at snack time. Maybe I'll try making a cobbler. We're making a dent in the carton, trying not to waste any, but it really is more than we can consume ourselves. Maybe the daycare kids get another bowlful next week. Fresh Texas peaches really are scrumptious.