One apple. A lone and lovely apple. That's what is clinging to one of the wild apple trees along the top of the bluff. All of its colleague apples fell earlier this summer, apple-victims of the drought.
This apple has staying power. Its red glow lights up the still green leafy canopy of the tree. A hard freeze hit fruit trees hard last spring. At our farm, 40 miles away, the cherry, pear and apple trees did not bear fruit at all this season, no doubt due to the spring's deep freeze.
One of these days this apple will fall prey to the crows as they forage for a meal. Or the apple will detach from the branch, drop to the lawn, and become a sweet treat for the deer who roam the shoreline and bluff.
I wonder, as I watch this apple from the house, why apples are red and why some drop and some don't. The tree, if it could talk, might tell me, but for now, I'm observing and musing about why, if I were an apple tree, there would be one lone apple this fall.
Copyright 2012
Wanda Hayes Eichler
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