Offices and Orchards (A New Adult Sweet Romance)

Epilogue

All the apples are in and the last of the leaves are falling to the ground covering any apples that managed to stay hidden during picking and clean up. These have already begun to decompose and it makes me wonder how many times a tree nourishes itself with it's own fallen fruit as I Trudge through leaves that had not even shown a tint of color let alone any hint of falling when we began.
Picking bags have been hung up for the season, ladders collected from the orchard. Being one of the last to leave the bunkhouse feels very empty. Granted I didn't stay in the bunkhouse full time like some of the others, but I did spend a lot of time with them and now they have gone on their way, heading to places like Pittsburgh, North Carolina, Maine and Hawaii. Some are not sure where they will even end up next as they pack up their belongings and head off in cars, on buses or motorcycles. We never know who will return to us the following year either.

Although the picking is over there is still a lot to do in the orchard to prepare it for winter and so not everyone has left. The apples have to be raked out from under the trees and the aisles between the trees mowed to deal with the weeds and high grasses. This work should take another few weeks, time I will be happy to spend among the trees.

The days are colder, but still of an enjoyable temperature to work in. The key I have found is to dress in layers, which can be peeled off as the body and the day begin to warm. Many of the apple trees have begun to turn in color, most to various shades of yellow and gold, a few to orange or even a deep crimson. Putting the orchard to bed is hard but satisfying work. In some ways raking the apples out from under the trees feels much more physically strenuous than picking the fruit. The job is messy with apples being crushed underfoot and the scent of fermenting fruit in the nostrils. As a crew we slowly make our way up and down each row. Some varieties leave little work to be done, with only an apple here or there to be found, others have yellow and red carpets under them which we pull up to prepare the orchard for winter. It is a good reminder that the work does not end when the apples are off the trees.

This tidying of the orchard has allowed me to glean those hidden apples of all varieties and after a great deal of sampling has occurred. Some varieties, those picked only a few weeks prior, give to the pallet a sensation very similiar to the flavor and texture they had the day I picked them. Others seem only to worsen with age, becoming soft, mealy and in some cases overly sweet. There are those however that when bitten into have a taste that seems only possible this time of year.

As we prepare to celebrate this time of "Thanksgiving" I find myself feeling cynical in my perception of what I believe to be a great detachment from the harvest and bounty that we are fain to celebrate and give thanks for. If one's knowledge of an apple goes no further than the produce section of the supermarket or even the local farm stand, is one really able to conceive the true nature of the apple, whether it be a wild one found on a saunter in the woods or a Macoun, Pippin or Ida Red taken directly from a tree in the long rays of an October afternoon. I wish for every person who desires to feel truly thankful for what is continually provided to us to at least once in their life walk the circumference of an apple tree searching for that one apple that calls out to them, pick it and polish its skin with the inside of their shirt, lean against the trunk among the fallen leaves and half rotting apples and enjoy the apple in its juicy simplicity. I am thankful to have been able to do this, and I hope that you, as a reader, have enjoyed doing it, perhaps vicariously through me. Until next harvest.

With permission
http://appleharvester.blogspot.com