The Sun, the Moon, and the Melon

When I hawked peaches in high school to pay for night classes, customers would sometimes ask about the difference between yellow and white peaches. "White peaches," I was instructed to tell them, "are to yellow peaches what honeydew are to cantaloupe." If they weren't familiar with honeydew or standardized test analogies, I told them it was that old moon-sun dichotomy. Lunar versus solar flavors -- really just a Mennonite metaphor for the taboo issue of white and red wine.

I thought of it today as I carved a gibbous honeydew into crescents for the queue of customers at the register. They were up so late they saw Orion haul himself over the horizon to prophesy wintry fruitlessness, and the experience left them jonesing for a musky creamy-green melon fix, the fecund marriage of honeysuckle and wicked blinding moonshine mountain dew. (Speaking of which, some of the nicest moonshine has slivers of Georgia Belle peaches swimming in it). The juice trickled to my elbows. Small children gathered around my skirts and followed me out into the sunshine with tambourines and panpipes.

Take another shot, I say! Nibble flesh from rind, kick Orion under the horizon, and kiss me, honey, do....