October arrives in a swirl of fragrant blue leaf smoke, and little hard acorns falling. We are in the midst of cool crisp days, purple mists, và Nature recklessly tossing her whole palette of dazzling tones through fields and woodlands.

Bạn đang xem: Apple of my eye

There were many aromas lớn take in at one time. The sweetness of slightly frosted Apples. The woody scent of cedar. Smoke from the fireplaces. An onslaught of sensorial experiences. All the odors blended together into one, wonderful & fresh. My eyes focused on the orchard, the trees still laden with red apples.

Every summer we strung the old hammock between two hearty apple trees that tempered summer’s humidity with the thick shade that they poured on those that lingered beneath them. And I would swing for hours, listlessly adrift in the quiet refuge that they afforded me. & yet, while I slept wrapped in the solace of their sanctuary they were busy fashioning sweeping canopies full of apples of the sweetest sort. And in my busyness, had I not paused under their canopies all I would see are the apples that fed my body, but I would have missed the solace that fed my soul.

And then there is that day when all around, all around you hear the dropping of the apples, one by one, from the trees. At first it is one here và one there, and then it is three and then it is four và then nine and twenty, until the apples plummet lượt thích rain, fall like horse hoofs in the soft, darkening grass, & you are the last táo bị cắn dở on the tree. It’s when I come to lớn realize what the trees have been up lớn all summer.

And when the fall of my life comes, I"ll always be around, the hãng apple of my eye. Forever you"ll stay in my heart.

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