we waited with much anticipation, salivating at the thought of enjoying the fruits of our peach tree’s labor. there was to be a humble peachy celebration on the first harvest, three years after planting the mother’s day gift.
i remained ever hopeful that the fruits, picked at their peak of freshness, would break me of my general disdain for peaches, which i developed from eating mushy, mealy canned versions of the fruit in my younger days.
but apparently, the squirrels were watching, and plotting revenge for my having finally, after years of battle, squirrel-proofed our bird feeder which stands near the peach tree. i imagine, after months of milling about under the bird feeder, that they hatched The Plan.
it was perfectly executed. they took a peach here and there through the growing season, making it appear as if they weren’t Too Greedy. and then, just before the peaches reached Perfection, in the span of 48 hours, they cleaned out the tree. dozens and dozens of peaches simply disappeared almost instantly.
we managed to save just a few, and so, i did get to taste a mindblowingly awesome peach which did, in fact, break me of my general disdain for the fruit.
rest assured, squirrels, that i will remember the taste of The Awesome Peachy Goodness as i plot my revenge. this means war.