Rites of Autumn

Alright, so it's not 'officially' Autumn yet, but today the Alpha Buck and I embarked on what I consider the most sacred rite of Autumn: Apple Picking!!!

The first time I went to pick apples, I was a wee pixie of 5 years - and it was a wonderful day with Mom and Dad (and no siblings - too young, left with Grandma) in the fresh air. We drove the 90+ minutes from our city home to the country and plucked ripe juicy apples off the trees. This family tradition kept going until I left for college nearly some twelve years later. I really loved this tradition, the same orchard year after year - noticing what was different, added or deleted. I loved this so much I went apple picking on my own every year after we stopped going as a family bringing various roommates, boyfriends, friends and even going it alone one year.

The second week in September is the earliest I've ever gone to pick - but - a postcard announcing THE APPLES ARE READY FOR PICKING came in the mail last week, and with a hectic schedule for us newlyweds it was this weekend - or not at all this season.

We hit the orchard shortly after opening and had a wonderfully serene walk through the fields. The trees were so laden with fruit, they were lush and fragrant; a sweet, slightly tangy smell, enhanced by the apples littering the thick grass, sampled by deer, raccoons and who-knows-what-else that roams the deserted fields at night. I don't remember ever being the only person in the orchard, but today that's just what happened - it was me, AB and a few of the farmers, each offering a friendly Hello as we happened to meet. One gent tipped his cap at me, another stopped and chatted with us - and pointed out apples he promised would make the best applesauce. He let me in on a few sauce making 'secrets' too.

There was something so idyllic in that early hour (ok, just to clarify, early for us, I suspect the folks working the farm were ready for lunch). The air was still cool - even though the sun was strong - and there was a calm, quiet over the landscape. No cries or whines or giggles from wee folks beginning family traditions; no young couple's smooching or old couple's bantering. Just some bees buzzing, hovering close to the layer of partially eaten fruit on the ground and us and the farmers.