Autumn Air in the Orchard
A silence lingered in the still autumn air as we slowly approached the orchard. The rows of seasoned trees were met with overgrown grass and fallen apples that smelled of candied sweetness. A sweetness that yearned to find its way into freshly baked pies, cinnamon applesauce cooked on the stovetop and warm vanilla muffins and breads.
We were the only ones in the orchard. The stillness surrounded us and we ran quickly from apple tree to apple tree. The red delicious merged into the golden delicious and our baskets immediately filled with an array of colors. Bursts of deep reds and bright greens rolled from our hands as picked the pops of color from low hanging bows. The changing leaves brushed our hair and scratched our bare arms; we reached as high as our fingertips would allow, standing on tippy toes and swaying for balance in the soft wind.
My kitchen counters are covered in those sweet apples, an entire bushel of them to be exact! I always wondered just how many apples are in a bushel. Forty-two pounds later I now know. The autumn air has traveled from the orchard and into our home. October, we welcome you with open arms.