I love a fat juicy and sweet peach.
But before I get started on juicy peaches, let me mention a few things. When we lived in East L A back in the 1950s, we had three backyards. The one just behind the back porch was just a grassy area with clothe line and a detached garage. But behind that was two other yards. The third yard and the furthest from the house was a big patch of weeds once used for growing vegetables but the soil was so hard nothing grew. However the middle and second yard corraled many chickens around a white washed chicken coop. A little square outbuilding where chicken nested and slept. Have you ever watch a chicken sleep? The put their heads under their wing. Something likes sleeping with your head under a pillow. But enough with that.
Now here is the miracle of the middle yard. There were three peach trees in the chicken yard. What the chickens did for the trees was something like miracle grow. If you know what I mean. But the end result, pardon my pun, was big fat sweet peaches. Peaches as big as a softball. Big, juicy, and sweet. They were oh so good. The trick though was to pick them off the tree before they fell to the ground in chicken poop. . Thank you chickens for the end results.