It’s a yearly tradition now, the herald of autumn, and if we lived in a colder climate, it would serve as a bookend to the summer.
The selection is diminished at this time of year: the McIntoshes are long gone, if that’s your apple. Honeycrisp tress are long bare, and Pink Ladies are still not ripe. Of course, there’s always Red and Golden Delicious, as well as Granny Smiths, but those are at the very bottom of our list of favorites.
There are a few Cortlands on the tress, though, and if you look hard enough, you’ll find a McIntosh or two still hanging around.
And of course there are loads of Fuji apples.
We can easily fill the baskets with Fuji, and the Girl adores that particular cultivar.
The apples, of course, are only a means to an end, which is spending time with close friends.
for #1 son yesterday, it’s the search for the great pumpkin, settling for average to adorn the porch, and hay rides, in a place similar to yours.
# 2 son expressed fear of pre-school field trip to”apple orchar'” last week envisioning I don’t know what kind of apprehensions in his 4 year old mind, but was reconciled.
Beautiful photos, reminds me of time spent in highview west verginy and their apple festival.