On a beautiful, temperate September day, we excitedly accepted an invitation to go apple-picking. Remembering that it was one of our family's favorite end-of-summer/early fall activities, we jumped in the car and headed to the Virginia countryside to meet up with my daughter, son-in-law, and toddler grandgirls.
Majestic trees with a hint of color, stood erect lining the highway like guardsmen of nature. In the distance, a broad mountain appeared. We were amazed by how beautiful the countryside looked. Spotting a sign for a winery, we exited off the highway and followed the path to the winery. A very curvy road lay ahead of us so we slowly and safely transversed it. The excitement mounted when we entered the apple orchard. The day was a joyous one; the little ones excitedly picked all sizes of apples with the hopes of creating all sorts of desserts with the half bushel each family picked. As Rachel Ray said, "Everybody's twelve years old in an apple orchard."
We wandered through in early September,
*I used The Apple Orchard by Dana Gioia and Rainier Marie Rilke's poem The Apple Orchard as mentor texts.
I am glad that I found a way to insert part of the title of my upcoming gallery, Nurturing Our Summer Souls, into the poem.
I am ready to join my far-away friend, Denise Krebs in Bahrain, at her blog, Dare To Care, for the Poetry Friday Roundup. Denise shares an In One Word poem with us that is very clever.
Carol, I became a twelve-year old reading about your trip and the joy of picking apples. I was privileged to live a few years in Michigan, where we were able to experience this with our toddler/preschool daughters. I had lots of good memories from your post. "the children's / Wide eyes filled with wonder were the best surprise" Yes! Your photos add so much! Brava for getting the "nurturing our summer souls" in, and thanks for sharing your mentor texts.ReplyDelete
Denise, I am glad that you joined me on this wonderful outdoor excursion and that you had the opportunity to share in the wonder with your girls. Enjoy your hosting fun today.Delete
Oh wow. So a bushel is still used? What is it? (I've heard of a bushel of tea (we even have Bushells tea as a brand) but I didn't realise it was a weight/measure still in use. Love your poem and the insight into this little family excursion. And the joy. (Those 'bees and butterflies fluttering by / stopping only for a taste of sweetness.') How old are those grandgirls now, Carol? Growing so fast, I can imagine!ReplyDelete
Kat, thank you for stopping by and commenting. Sierra is 4 and Aurora 20-months-old. Sierra still has "This is the Mud!" book on her bedroom bookshelf ready for read alouds. It is one of our favorite stories. The apple orchard uses a 1/2 bushel plastic bag for apple picking. By the end of the picking, the bag was oh so heavy-another great memory for us.Delete
Thanks for sharing this lovely memory, Carol! We picked peaches with our grands a few years ago... I need to write about that! Enjoy the crunch!ReplyDelete
I would love to read your post about peach picking. That reminds me that the peach season was over but the orchard had one last bushel of peaches for sale. I have a bag for making a peach crisp.Delete
Thanks so much for taking us along on your glorious apple picking day. It sounds fabulous from start to finish. Love the gorgeous pics, too. :) Hooray for fall!ReplyDelete
Jama, fall is creeping up and your salute to autumn lets me know that I need to step up my nod to summer gallery. Thanks for stopping by. I read your Susan Branch blog today and want to make the potato chip cookies now. Thanks for always sharing great recipes.Delete
I don't think I'll be apple-picking but I loved the trip you've taken us on, Carol, especially with the delight of those grandgirls! What beautiful memory-making for all of you. I love the way you wound your way through the day in this poetic post.ReplyDelete
Linda, Each time I am with the grandgirls is a joyous adventure. Today is no exception. I just got the girls to stop chatting and fall asleep for a nap while I sneak away to read and bake a peach crisp for dinner. Thanks for joining me on the recapping of our adventure.Delete
Carol your poem reads like an ode to a fading summer season as the bounty of the season continues to be harvested. The gentle use of repetition is so well supported by the imagery that follows it. Warm feelings are evoked.ReplyDelete
Alan, thanks for mentioning the repetition. I thought that might be a good fit for this poem. Summer fades into fall but I cherish each season as they each share their promise of nature nourishing our souls.Delete
I was swept away with the wide-eyed views of your granddaughters! Your poem draws me into the gentleness of this adventure. This year I went strawberry picking with some of my grandchildren, the hub of excitement palpable, mine as well. A kid at heart (me) shares enjoyment and merriment with all those around her.ReplyDelete
Grandma Love is real and full of joy, Faige. Thanks for joining me here and sharing your story also.Delete
You've painted such a vivid, beautiful picture of your family day out. I love your last lines: Perhaps, nature continues to nurture our late summer soulsReplyDelete
Or silently and mindfully growing to bear fruit?
Thank you for sharing this with us!
Elisabeth, thank you for joining me here. The weekend dates with my little grandgirls is always a filled with wonder and fond memories. Enjoy your week. If you can believe this, I am still making the PF rounds and glad to have read your poem on September.Delete
Thanks for joining the fun at my post, Ruth. Now off to write my slice.Delete
I love the ways you captured all the memories of the day!ReplyDelete
Thanks for stopping by, Mary Lee. I just realized there was another comment on my page. I mentioned you again in Nurturing Our Summer Souls Gallery-Poetry Friday Edition today.Delete