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Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
Image 1 of 1
I live in North Georgia, so of course I have a peach tree. I’ve actually had one ever since I moved up here. The original owners left me a beautiful, mature tree—heavy with fruit every summer—until a storm finally took it down. My kids planted another one for me, and it’s been just as generous. I love my peach trees.
And because I live in North Georgia, of course I also have bears.
Every year I get to watch a mother raise her cubs on the ridge behind my house. Young males wander through like teenagers raiding the pantry. Every now and then a big old boar ambles past with the confidence of someone who knows he belongs here. They’re regulars at this point - neighbors, really.
So here’s the math: I have peach trees. I have bears. Therefore, I do not have peaches.
In twelve years, my trees have grown thousands of peaches. In the last four years, I have harvested exactly two. Two peaches in four years. You’d think I’d be upset about that - and I am, a little -but it’s hard to stay mad when you’ve stood on your porch and watched a black bear delicately pluck a ripe peach like it’s the finest thing he’s ever tasted. There’s something about witnessing that kind of wild opportunism up close that softens the blow.
So July’s card is an ode to my opportunistic Appalachian Black Bears—the peach thieves who show up every summer, help themselves without apology, and remind me that I’m lucky to share this land with them. I’ll take my wounded pride to the farmers market for fresh Georgia peaches and call it even. Then, I’ll hope that maybe this year, they’ll ‘Save Me One’.
I hope you enjoy this month’s painting of one of my annual visitors. They are magnificent creatures, and I’m grateful for every stolen peach.
Printed with care on high quality pro luster paper with archival ink.
Packaged in clear sleeve with white mat and acid free backing board.
I live in North Georgia, so of course I have a peach tree. I’ve actually had one ever since I moved up here. The original owners left me a beautiful, mature tree—heavy with fruit every summer—until a storm finally took it down. My kids planted another one for me, and it’s been just as generous. I love my peach trees.
And because I live in North Georgia, of course I also have bears.
Every year I get to watch a mother raise her cubs on the ridge behind my house. Young males wander through like teenagers raiding the pantry. Every now and then a big old boar ambles past with the confidence of someone who knows he belongs here. They’re regulars at this point - neighbors, really.
So here’s the math: I have peach trees. I have bears. Therefore, I do not have peaches.
In twelve years, my trees have grown thousands of peaches. In the last four years, I have harvested exactly two. Two peaches in four years. You’d think I’d be upset about that - and I am, a little -but it’s hard to stay mad when you’ve stood on your porch and watched a black bear delicately pluck a ripe peach like it’s the finest thing he’s ever tasted. There’s something about witnessing that kind of wild opportunism up close that softens the blow.
So July’s card is an ode to my opportunistic Appalachian Black Bears—the peach thieves who show up every summer, help themselves without apology, and remind me that I’m lucky to share this land with them. I’ll take my wounded pride to the farmers market for fresh Georgia peaches and call it even. Then, I’ll hope that maybe this year, they’ll ‘Save Me One’.
I hope you enjoy this month’s painting of one of my annual visitors. They are magnificent creatures, and I’m grateful for every stolen peach.
Printed with care on high quality pro luster paper with archival ink.
Packaged in clear sleeve with white mat and acid free backing board.