My neighbor’s tree is overflowing with organic perfectly ripe delicious apples. He let me pick some today, and I’ve picked three 5-gallon buckets. I’ll store some for fresh eating, and use the blemished ones for applesauce.
Such an unexpected, but a wonderful gift! I have apples, but they’re tiny and don’t taste as good as these.
Apples are a simple treat. Even arguably the simplest of treats. All you have to do is reach up and pull one off a tree. The fragrance and firmness and flavor of a just-picked apple beats everything else I can think of right now . . . and a meal of fresh apple slices and sharp cheddar cheese runs a very close second.
Today it’s a little breezy. After I picked what I could by standing on the ground I borrowed his wooden ladder. Up aloft on the ladder, with the branches swaying in the breeze and my hand twisting the apple off the branch as if I’d done it a million times before — darned if I didn’t get a deja vu of another time, another place — my childhood? a scene from a book? Anyway — it’s something I’m connecting with in semi-memory form, and the deja vu feeling is that this has happened before, and it’s something to savor, to focus on, or pay more attention to. Almost magical.
Yes, I pass rows of apples in the grocery store this time of year, but I don’t feel magic. I see baskets at the farmer’s market, but they don’t elicit quite the same feeling.
Apples have a decent shelf life. But the longer the apples sit on your counter, the less magic, and the longer they sit in a refrigerated truck or in the produce section of the store . . . need I say anything?
There’s a transference of energy when you take hold of the fruit growing live on the tree and as you pull it off into your hand and then take a bite, everything is at that moment bursting with life.
This is the time of year orchards open their doors for U-pickers, so if you don’t have the pleasure of an apple tree in your yard, treat yourself and someone you love with a trip to the orchard. It’s simply magic.