If there’s a theme to this season, it appears to be peaches.

Recent travels produced heaven on earth in the form of peach pie. An amazing visit with old friends (Yes, it’s been much too long. And, yes, I’ve missed laughing with you, too.) introduced me to a tasty peach cocktail (or three). Now, a friend has offered fresh, Iowa peaches for the taking.

They’re the Iowa variety – small, white, sweet.

I filled a bucket.

The excess will go into the freezer. It will be nice to feast on Iowa’s bounty this winter. Earlier in the summer I picked up the most gorgeous raspberries from a woman across town. Every Iowa yard produces rhubarb. And, thanks to the spring gift of two Muscatine Melon plants from a cousin, I’ve had plenty cantaloupe. My plate has been graced with orange succulence nearly every meal, and have even been able to share a few. There is a still some to join the other treats in the freezer. And Iowa’s apple season is about to hit its stride.

I’ve also been able to stock the freezer with tomatoes – the canning variety purchased from local growers at prices that will throw my coastal readers into a cold sweat. And sweet corn, of course. There are peppers from the garden there, too. The eggplant, radishes and spring greens were consumed directly.

Yep, this is the Midwest. This is Iowa. We can grow just about anything here. And do.

Family homes come with heirloom fruit trees and Grandma’s asparagus patch. Rental properties come with garden plots and walnut trees. One would be hard-pressed to not find at least a patio potted tomato plant at every residence.

Farm gardens and sweet corn fields feed farmer’s markets. Large-scale growers supply grocery stores, restaurants, and hospitals, and offer CSA memberships.

We’re a bit baffled by the local foods movement; we’ve been eating that way our whole life. We didn’t know we were being trendy – just practical. And tasty. There’s a special palate to food borne of land tied to your spirit.

Our concern with trade agreements is focused on outgoing. Our livelihood is exported ag commodities – corn, soybeans, beef, pork. (And chickens and eggs and lamb and oats and…..)

We don’t care about incoming. We can take care of ourselves, thank you very much.

We even have our own vineyards and refine our own corn-grown fuel. Oh, and we get our electricity from wind.

We also have deer, fish, and morel mushrooms.

I found myself telling a tale earlier this week, the story of one branch of my family tree’s arrival in this land between two rivers. After my great-grandmother emigrated here from Germany, she married and settled west of Fontanelle. They farmed and began raising a family. Eventually, she helped other members of her family make the move.

From the ship they made their way to Iowa via train, coming into the station at Creston, 30 miles away, traveling the final leg of the journey by horse and wagon. As they pulled into the lane leading into the family farm, they came face to face with a wire grain bin brimming with ears of corn.

Struck with awe, they disembarked, knelt in the dirt, and gave thanks to God – for he surely must have brought them to the most plentiful land on earth.

How can I not take advantage of that?