I used to hate taking showers. They feel like a magnifying chamber, and in my earlier years the thing being magnified was my anxiety. It was a hostage situation, basically. No distractions, no stimuli, you just have to stand there and shower all alone with your thoughts!
As I’ve gotten older and my head has become a friendlier place, though, I’ve learned to appreciate the opportunities a shower provides: for quiet, for contemplation, to focus in on a singular experience. Usually that singular experience is, you know, showering, but in the hottest weeks of summer there is also: Shower Fruit.
In July 2019 I rode my bike home from work and walked in the door at 5:43 pm. I took off my helmet and sunglasses, pulled the elastic from my hair. The cat I was sitting for came to greet me and I gave him some scratches, and then I selected the ripest peach from the bowl, peeled off all my sweaty clothes and got in the shower.
The water was cool against my sun-warmed skin. I held the peach under the stream for a moment, then bit into it. The firm flesh gave way to tangy-sweet floral sunlight. The juices ran down my chin, mingling with the water. A bead of nectar trailed down my forearm and dripped off my elbow. I held my face up to the water and was washed clean again. I took another bite. There was nothing to worry about, nothing to think about—just the pleasures of stone fruit season, of being clean, of warm nights and long days ahead.
Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine—good God how fine. It went down soft, pulpy, slushy, oozy—all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large beatified Strawberry.
—John Keats, 1819
RIP John Keats you would have loved Shower Fruit
Skeptics will say that Shower Fruit tastes the same in and out of the shower. Scientists will suggest that the enclosed space and humidity of the shower enhance your sense of smell and therefore your sense of taste. I will simply encourage you to try it for yourself.
Actually, I would take it a little further. Because Shower Fruit, I would suggest, is not merely fruit that one eats in the shower. It’s a return to simplicity, a pleasure as pure and natural as swimming naked. (I have never done this, but when I hear people who love it talk about swimming naked it reminds me of my zeal for Shower Fruit.) It’s an invitation to slow down, to pay attention, to turn off your brain and be present to your senses.
reflections on the past are also an acceptable Shower Fruit focus
I do recommend stone fruits for Shower Fruit, despite the difficulties in acquiring them. Stone fruit season and Shower Fruit season are synonyms to me, and the seasonality is an essential part of their pleasure—not to be enjoyed year-round but cherished in their proper moment. Peaches are my first pick, but nectarines, plums, and the like would all do nicely. Berries seem a little small, and I love an apple but they lack the romance I’m looking for in Shower Fruit.
(The Shower Orange and its devotees recently came to my attention—I don’t eat oranges, and I’m a little unsure about the peel situation, but suffice to say I am broadly in favor.)
It seems incredible, but Shower Fruit season is already drawing to a close. Already there’s a crispiness in the air in the late evenings. The sun is setting earlier. Would you like to live deliciously? Do you dare to eat a peach? All too soon we’ll be donning sweaters and drinking hot coffees. There are a few warm days left. I implore you not to delay.