A is for apple

I've gone a bit apple-mad. The ex-psychiatric hospital nearby has an orchard full of apples (and I mean full!) but of course it is an ex-hospital so the grounds are pretty much places in waiting... and so the apples are too. For the last few years that orchard has worn a carpet of apples for much of the fall season and it's pretty sad, I think, when food costs so much and we all seem to talk about healthy eating all the time. We went and picked a bag full yesterday (we all have permission, I emailed the current landowners to check... ) and I am telling everyone I can think of to try to keep the rotting to a minimum. I suppose this is partly because I was brought up by a mother who'd lived through WW2 and so I hate food waste (though I think most of us do really). There are issues of course... some of the trees are very tall and quite old... and everyone is busy... but I'm hopeful.

And lo, an apple poem (title connected to my late arrival at Instagram... I like to try most things... just not always at the same time as everyone else...). 

Instapple

Dream, if you must, of apples.

Check the ground first,

Flatten nettles,

Clear the rotten windfall.

Then head up high

To the happy bounty,

Ripe clumps of life,

Calling out to be pie.

There’s no finer sight;

Than apples above,

The pound in your heart,

A red and green beat.

Preserve if you can,

Keep the taste fresh,

Make the good cake,

And save the picture.

RF 2017