POETICS TUESDAY. Mish's challenge has us considering the marvelous fruits of autumn. Autumn trips to the apple orchard were part of my childhood. Submited to dVerse 9/21/2021.
It was autumn tradition -- apple orchard day!
A country drive down sun kissed roads,
painted leaves skittering across the road,
the sky a clear and cloudless cobalt blue.
At last, the familiar apple barn!
Savoring its heady. sweet smell
we’re offered cups of spiced cider
while mother chooses her familiar
--red delicious, jonathans,
Grimes goldens--every year exactly
4 1/2 bushels--we eye the caramel
apples that will be take-home treats..
With a trunk full of apples, off we go.
munching our crisp, juicy apples.
Within two weeks, the shelves in
Mother’s larder are lined with
sparkling jars of apple butter, apple sauce,
apple jelly, and sliced apples for pies;
the rest in cool storage bins for school day
snacks and the winter traditional Sunday
supper of popcorn and crisp apples.
Another year, another apple orchard day.
Ah, bliss!.
I sincerely hope this sweet scene is still playing out cross our country. Memories are made in the most simple of what like seem like the most mundane actions … canning, baking, gathering apples.
ReplyDeleteIt's amazing that one fruit can bring back so many images of togetherness and engagement, something we need more of these days. I may have to attempt apple jelly...
ReplyDeleteThis was so upliftings. Like a hug. The 31 years I have lived here in the PacNW have always featured an Autumn day-trip through orchard country. I love it, and it is some thing I can still do. Thank you for sharing your memory Bev! 🙂
ReplyDeleteApples are woven into the fabric of American tradition. The annual trip to the orchards and what came after came to life in your poem.
ReplyDeleteLovely memory Bev
ReplyDeleteMuch💖love
Another year,
ReplyDeleteanother apple orchard day
How nice Bev! Such wonderful memories which could be sustained, not just by the outing, but the goodies for some while! Did it go for a few generations?
Hank
It still goes for many, Hank. Those of us who live in the city still take that autumn drive -- sans the 4 1/2 bushel to process and can!
DeleteI can tell you grew up in my generation! I remember and love all those great apple delicacies! I love your poem!
ReplyDeleteNostalgic, beautiful and delicious with all the apple treats.
ReplyDeletewhat lovely memories you conjured and what marvels your mother made- I can smell the apples through your words
ReplyDeleteAh! what sweet memories to cherish and relish!!
ReplyDeleteIt's apple season right know and I would wish I had something so I could fill up my larder (it's me making jam over here)
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this poem full of memories.
ReplyDeleteI really love reading of your memories, Bev... and this isn't the first time I've thought so after a poem of yours :)
ReplyDeleteAll best,
David [ben Alexander]
Beverly,
ReplyDeleteWhat delicious memories, and coloring all, the love of family! Thank you for sharing.
pax,
dora
I once lived near a cider mill. We had three apple trees, and we would take them to the cider mill to be pressed. I loved the smell of that place.
ReplyDeleteI love the poignancy which with this poem is penned, Bev! Who can possibly resist caramel apples? 💝💝
ReplyDelete