Prologue

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It was the beginning of November and the past week had given cold days to the inhabitants of Harvest Hills, Vermont. Gone were the russets, crimsons and clarets of the maple trees that added the most color to the famed fall foliage of the region. Gone also were the amber, tawny and saffron hues of the ashes and oaks, as deciduous leaves everywhere inevitably, lost their grasp on their branches. And if ever there were question about the changing of the season, the odd frost confirmed the end of Fall, dusting the ground fleetingly before the rays of a late morning's sun forced it away. Further up into the mountains, a white blanket several feet deep offered even more proof that winter was well on its way. 
Harvey McIntosh, amateur apple-picker and blogger, sat at his computer wondering what to write in what would be his final post of the season. He was in his old room at his family's farmhouse, which reflected his tastes when he had been in middle school several years prior. There was a Nirvana poster, Red Hot Chilli Peppers and one of  Baywatch's Yasmine Bleeth. A lot had changed in those years. And even moreso in the last few months.
The cursor blinked at him as he flipped the radio on, a No Doubt song played, bringing him back to seventh grade dances.  He looked outside the window. Even though a lot had changed for him, the scene outside looked exactly as it always did at this time of year. The trees stood nearly bare, their trunks and branches tracing stark black silhouettes against the brilliant blue backdrop of their sky canvas. His eyes scanned the landscape scene in front of him, the arrow-straight  rows of apple trees in contrast to the winding river, jagged mountain peaks and rolling hills. His gaze stopped on a patch of tamaracks in the distance whose needles had turned to yellow-gold in a final burst of Autumnal glory. Just when you think that Fall is over, he thought to himself with a smile, finally finding inspiration for his post.
Life of an Apple Picker Blog - The First Snow
The apple trees in the orchard are almost all bare now. Here and there a few solitary leaves still cling, mostly on the later ripening apple varieties like the Ida Red and Gold Rush. The naked trees, preparing to doze off into their winter's sleep, appear so much smaller than they did in their full summer regalia. Those that seemed to tower above you in October now have a more modest reach. The fallen, half rotten apples still show their rosy cheeks through the dusting of white upon the ground. The apples missed by the picking crew, those camouflaged by the leaves, now hang like forgotten ornaments on the tree. The Golden Delicious, which were so well hidden a few months ago now stand out in stark contrast to the dark branches as snowflakes journey through the air, falling silently onto the hard ground.
It has now been a week since the picking season ended. For many, November is an in-between month, too cold to be comfortable outside, but not cold enough for the snows of winter, but there is always lots of work to do on the orchard, even when the apples are gone. Slowly, over the past several years, we have been replacing the archaic chain-link fence that has surrounded the property since before even the first trees were planted. November and December are usually the only months slow enough to allow for time to build the fence and that is only if there is not too much snow on the ground to prevent the tractors from getting around. So this week, I finally dug out my long underwear and fleece-lined boots and headed out to the fence line.
Building a fence is not something that can be rushed. Stretching three hundred and thirty feet of ten-foot tall wire mesh, requires close attention to detail in order to maintain proper tension and work out any kinks that form as the fence conforms to the contours of the land. It isn't a difficult job, but it can take time and patience. Two things which, I have learnt much of in the last few months. The key is finding ways to keep warm, moving as much as possible is one way, and taking breaks for a cup of tea or hot chocolate never hurts either, especially if that break can be shared with others.
As I finish my work day, I reflect on all that has happened not only at the orchard during Harvest time over the past few months but also at my internship, and once again, I am reminded of the parallels that being an apple-picker has with life in general. How I can take the lessons I have learnt on the orchard elsewhere.
But, they say that all good things come to an end, and in the case of the season of Fall, I must sadly confirm the truth in this expression. Fortunately, we are only days away to our first real snow, a thing of excitement for many, as it marks a new season, and a new good thing beginning. For me, this year, it also marks the start of a new chapter in my life, a new life. With her.

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