My Home State Fruit Grown deep down in the south lives the most delicious and incredibly nutritious fruit, the Georgia peach. The peach was originally grown in China. Now, Georgia is home to a peach so rich in antioxidants and full of vitamins. The first peaches were planted in Georgia during the eighteenth century and the industry has flourished ever since. This home grown fruit happens to be the best in all the country. There is no other like it. Other drupe fruit are taste great, yet none of them live up to the high standards of the Georgia peach. Down in Georgia, where I was born and raised, is where I was first introduced to the infamous Georgia peach. Peaches were grown nearly everywhere in Georgia; in fact, there were a few peach trees in my backyard. If there was not any trees nearby, you could easily buy them in stores or from a vendor on the side of one of the country roads. On hot summer days after my brother and I would play, a peach was always my snack of choice. I would hop off the swing set and jog down the sandy pathway until I came upon the tall, skinny round trunk of the tree. The peaches were a little further up than I could reach; therefore I would stretch on my tip toes and examine branch by branch until I saw the mother load of all peaches. I would feel through the bright luscious leaves until found just the right peach. When I would bite into its firm yet gentle flesh, sweet juices would drip down my face. The country summer breeze mixed with the sugary smell of peach juice created an aroma of pleasure. The peach with its reddish orange color and fuzzy ripe skin is the most succulent fruit to have ever existed. Peaches are used for a number of things. They are mainly consumed where I come from. My grandmother would always make rich syrupy peach cobblers and creamy homemade peach ice cream. The texture of the inside of the peach is not at all resistant which makes it easy to blend into anything, but cutting into a ripe peach can be a little or sometimes a lot messy. While cutting into a peach, juices secrete from every inch of it leaving everything that touches the juice sticky and sweet. After moving from Georgia to Texas, I have yet to taste a peach like any grown in my home state. The peaches in Texas do not have the sweet succulent juice that rush downward like a waterfall or the thin fuzzy skin that tears gently as you bite into it and tickles your tongue as gentle as a feather stroking your skin. Biting into a peach takes me back home. The Georgia peach puts me back on the wooden front porch, looking over the dark luscious green grass and red clay roads. The Blue jays and Robins sing as the Live Oak trees sway and the wind chimes cling in the southern wind creating harmonious music. While all peaches remind me of home, there is just no other like the Georgia peach.