For once, after seventeen years, the peaches weren’t hampered by late frost, drought, birds, lack of bees, gummiosis, worms, squirrels, or any other malady that occurs where you don’t get the harvest you need to perform the miracle of turning peaches into wine.
I’m picking daily as they ripen, peachpicker in one hand, shotgun in the other, fighting the birds to get to each individual peach as it matures. I’m usually a second behind them. But I’m bigger.
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Those look luscious. Peach wine sounds like a perfect aperitif on a spring day. Invite me for Easter!
It’s good stuff if the fruit is right. I did manage to get the female half of a wedding party completely souced at the bridal shower on peach wine once.