I have been walking around with gold in my stomach. Bruised gold. Over the weekend my Mom handed me a basket of sunset-colored peaches. They had been part of a peach farmer's first harvest and were selling for $60 a bushel. Mom bought the less expensive peaches, the slightly bruised ones, for a discounted price. While they had a blemish or two on the outside, on the inside they were perfect. Sweet as candy and juicy enough to warrant a bib (although I refrained). A taste of summer boasting the best colors of fall, which seems about right as the summer days flit by in a rush. Luckily, there are many peaches to be had before we return to jackets, corduroy, and crackling bonfires. How rich.