Every summer in southern Oregon, our family would pile into the car in late July, trunk full of empty Costco boxes, crates, bags and coolers – any receptacle sturdy and large enough to carry home our precious, fragile cargo. The outing always seemed to land on one of the hottest, driest days of the deepest parts of summer, so seeking refuge in the leafy shade of acres of peach trees seemed the right thing to do. If any of you got the chance to go peach picking while you were growing up you may have the same sticky-sweet nostalgia that sinks you into a million summer moments when you bite…
