Life's a Peach

Aly's postcard from Georgia.. check out that early 90's vintage photo-look

A peachy-punch sunset

Peach roses... yum!

The peach tree (another one of Aly's postcards from Georgia!)

The first (and only) time I visited Georgia was in my sophomore year of highschool. My family and I went to Savannah for my childhood babysitter's wedding held in a renovated, old, maroon-painted barn. I'm not sure if it was because it coincided with the first time I fell in love or if the place is actually as magical as I remember it (it probably is) but one thing is for sure:  I left my heart in Georgia. Among the weeping live oaks and brick-red cobblestone streets, the warm and thick almost unbreathable June air, the excitement of having my first love send me cute text messages for the first time, the historic Squares and homes reminiscent of colonial America, the stately maples, oaks and white hickories that shade the Savannah River and the wild growing yellow jasmine and mountain laurel. Anytime I see a peach or the color peach or taste a peach or smell a peach I think of Savannah and that oh-so-succulent time in my life. New love. New sights. Summertime. Sixteen. I've said it before and I will say it again, some memories in life are sweet and sour all at once. Like a peach. I've heard the saying "life's a beach" but more likely, life is no vacation. Life is sometimes sweet and sometimes sour, sometimes mushy and ripe other times hard and puckeringly bitter. Or as the Zen Buddhist saying goes "10,000 sorrows, 10,000 joys." But from which will you source your own life?

(I also like to think that if life is a peach left to ripen, then life just gets better as we grow up.)