The Sunshine Cometh

Peaches. Oh my God the peaches. This weekend was, among other things, a celebration of the Pike Place Cheese Festival. But after wandering booth to booth devouring dairy in the hot sun, the palette requires something more - something a little less creamy. And stinky. At the request of my taste buds I mustered up enough bravery to "just try" a sample of a white peach from some town in Washington that I have never been to.

But my mouth didn't care. Sweet baby Jesus, this peach took me to heaven and back. Seven dollars later I was home bound with a brown paper bag of ecstasy. Sounds sketchy and illegal, but I swear it's natural, man. Anyway, I ate one peach right away (sorry everyone within a two foot splash zone), gave two away to the deserving, and saved the last for a rooftop picnic with a view of Mt. Rainer.

Seattle in spring. My utopia.

Driving into the International District

Hey there Olympics, I see you peeking.

Tarea plays Quadstock 2009.
By far the best act. Sorry Talib.

Love,

Bird