For me, there is something truly enchanting about early mornings. It's as if someone put a wool blanket over the world while we were all tucked into our beds, and now the blanket is being lifted, bit by bit. Mother Nature rubs her sleepy eyes and yawns. The first tendrils of sunlight stretch across the yard like fingers. The streets belong to the 6 a.m. joggers and the workers heading to their first morning shift.
In my family, breakfast is a relaxed meal. We don't sit down and eat together. We all wake up at different times and find ourselves downstairs in front of the pantry, pondering what to nibble on. My family members are fellow early risers, too -- Dad has been getting up before 5 a.m. for as long as I can remember. But we all have different breakfast rituals. I stick to the tried-and-true rolled oats with fruit; Dad snacks on bananas and peanut butter toast throughout the morning; Mom likes yogurt with granola and my brother Graham is a sucker for french toast. I've never understood how some people can skip breakfast; personally, I need breakfast like a car requires gas to function.
Although we all enjoy a leisurely breakfast in different ways, my family shares one common food during the summer: peaches. Always peaches. It's the fruit that my Dad grew up with, it's practically part of my family heritage. During the warm months, we eat as many peaches as we can possibly fit into our daily meals. I can count on my Dad to patiently heat the kettle and pour hot water over a couple of peaches to peel for our breakfasts.
Peaches are loved throughout all of my extensive family. We are Ontario-bred through and through, and therefore we love peaches.
It's a family tradition that makes early mornings even more special to my heart.