It's hard to believe that forty seven years have passed since we picked our first Macintosh off that tangled orchard tree. Fall was the best time of year. We would hop into the old truck and scoot on down the road to the local farm. Together we'd place everything in order for a perfect picnic; sandwiches here, potato chips there. She'd be certain to leave the pickles in a special container cause that sour taste of dill always made me buckle. Forty seven years since we made our first fall adventure, can you believe it?
The autumn breeze always seemed to soften the light as it glowed upon her curly red hair. So young and full of life she was. It was always a sight to see her when she'd reach for an apple and a good ol' honey bee would come buzzing around. Hell, she'd start flailing her dainty fingertips and scrunch her nose, waving her scarf all around as if the bee would surrender. Those were the moments that I searched for. Those moments (I'd swear) she could stop the universe in a shade of gray. Her ability to get so **** mad made her look as cute as puppy who couldn't run as fast as it wanted. When those moments began to unfold before my eyes it appeared I had been deeply connected to the face of God. My heart would leap, Ah, I knew I'd love her forever.
There was one year which was so special to me, I've held it safe as one of my fondest memories. We had been out all night one fall evening. Our neighbors held a festive barn party complete with a hog roast with all the fixens. We danced until our feet hurt. I remember she wanted to leave early but I wasn't sure why. Being the gentleman that I was, I stayed with the one that brought me.
I popped the clutch and off we went leaving the music behind us. Nothing seemed too out of the ordinary but then she reached over and gave me a little tap on the shoulder. She really had a way of getting my attention. "Pull over up here..." she said "down this gravel road!"
I shoulda known better. Shifting gears I made a careful right turn as the tires met with the thickly settled road. As soon the truck had made it fifty yards she opened that truck door and left me no choice but to stop! "What on earth are you doing?" I cried as she exited the vehicle and made her way past the headlights.
Before I could ask another question the drivers side door swung open. The moon must've been full that night cause I can recall light beams bouncing off her beautiful smile. She grabbed my hand and ran towards the forest. The trees lashed back against me as I chased her through the thick of it. I had no idea that the orchard would be on the other side.
Waiting like a tractor for an overdue oil change was a the most romantic thing I witnessed. My pretty girl sure did surprise me. I could have never guessed. Spread out right before me was a midnight picnic. We sat underneath that tree and laughed till the coyotes chased us home. That was the first night we ever made love. Real love...the lasting kind and Lord have mercy, I'll never forget it!
It's been ten years since she went up with the Angels. Every fall I can't help but reminisce of that night we left the barn dance- it's where it all began, but I have yet to return to our spot.
Every time I think about it I can smell the remnants of her homemade apple pie and it brings tears to my eyes. Today, something told me to muster up the courage and get down to the Orchard, it was as if she had tapped me on the shoulder again.
Different it was making my way down there alone. A lot of the landscape has changed and they've added a few things. I'd have to admit, the smell of the autumn breeze still rings true to my memories of my her as I approached the Apple Orchard.
Heavy hearted I headed out on the farm. It was different to see all the children with their families, that used to be us. But the sound of their laughter quickly replaced my own memories as I made my way down the hill to our very first apple picking tree.
There it stood as pretty as an apple tree could be. Her leaves appeared to blow to the sound of the wind, her branches looked like they were smiling. Glancing up I continued to walk closer and I couldn't believe what I saw. Was it true?
Slowly I made my way around the trunk of that twisted orchard tree just to be sure I wasn't imaging something, but I'll be ******, every apple on that tree was gone.
The moment I realized it was true I knelt down and dug my hands in the dirt. A blustery tear rolled on past my lips. I clenched my fist and lifted it to my heart. The moment was too much, I had taken too long to get there. Just as I turned around and decided that I should go- a busy little honey bee flew right past the tip of my eyelashes. I stumbled back and reluctantly began swatting at an almost invisible contender.
Jumping all around like a **** fool I was shoutin' and cussin' going off like a firecracker. All of a sudden the honey bee flew from sight and when I realized that I was so **** worked up, I began to laugh.
You see, it was that sweet little honey bee that made it all possible. It came buzzin' by like a heated stroke of lightening and changed everythin'! That's the moment I realized, if it weren't for the things that made us upset, the moments that brought on grief and heartbreak, perhaps we wouldn't have any reflection on the things that made us happy.
That apple tree may not have had a single Macintosh left for my pickin' but it taught me that my wife had planted enough seeds of love and hope in my heart that I didn't need no apple- just the memories that went with it.