Apple Picking Time…

I’m a Summer Time girl.

I always have been, I think.

As far back as I can remember, I’ve loved the freedom of Summer ~

Endless Daylight.
Crackling Thunderstorms.
Cool Pools.
Shady Trees.
Piles of Books to read.
Light, Light Clothing.
Flip Flops.
Car Windows open.
Warm Breezes.
Juicy Fresh Fruit.
Bike Riding.
Friends Knocking at my door.
Late Night Ice Cream Cones.
Flower Picking.
Cook-outs.

To name but a few.

When I became a Mom, I lived each of these things all over again with my children.

As a Grandma, I am blessed to enjoy things things, too.

When Autumn rolls around, that freedom transforms into schedules.

Schedules aren’t bad things.

They are just not freedom things.

But what I love about Autumn – the most, most, most – is Apple Picking.

(~Audrey, Jane and me~1985)

Apple Picking ~

Apples Orchards.
Endless Apples.
Tree Tops.
Wooden Ladders.
Little Apple-Picking Cages.
Bushel Baskets.
Children’s Laughter.
Colorful Leaves.
Cool Winds.
Warm Sweatshirts.
That First Bite.
Crunch Crunch Underfoot.
Orange Pumpkins, too.

Then the aroma of Apple Pies, Apple Crisp, Baked Apples.

Messy kitchen tables with sugar and flour and cinnamon and messy kids’ hands and faces, too.

Memories.

This is when Mother Nature chooses the schedule.

A rather small window.

Of all this color and sound and aromas and touch and especially taste.

It’s the small window that makes Apple Picking so very, very special.

Kind of like Summer in New England!

OK.

I’m ready of Autumn!