The Apple Tasting

Calluna took in a deep breath of the tea scented autumn air as she strode in the waning sunlight along the path by the river. The sky was a deep, deep azure with some downy clouds, tinted golden in the evening rays of sun. It felt like freedom after a day stuck in the office.

Passing under the low slung branches of a tree, she saw bright red apples hanging like heavy baubles along the limbs. A few were within reach. Giving one a slight twist, lifting up gently, she could feel the slight pop! and the weight of the 3 inch apple fall into her hand.

Huh, she thought, surprised. Good size for an apple that came up from a discarded core. She brushed off the faint white bloom with her sleeve, revealing a green apple with a deep red blush. MacIntosh, she thought and took a bite. It was crisp, juicy and slightly tart with an unmistakable flavour. Yup, this was an apple that didn’t fall far from the tree.

Stepping out from under the laden boughs and into the sunshine, she caught a wider view of the valley and Calluna smiled. Dotted along the treeline like ballet dancers at the bar, were more apples with all kinds of different fruits! The adventuress within whispered to her to try her own Goldilocks experiment and find the one that was ‘just right’.

Well, that was a challenge she accepted readily.

There were red ones and yellow ones, small ones and big ones. Sweet ones and sour ones and all kinds in between.

Threading her way down the dirt path, a golden drop of sunlight suspended from a branch caught her eye. Glancing up she saw a tree festooned in yellow apples of the Delicious looking kind, the branches arching up over her head, high above her. These she left untasted however, not relishing wading through poison ivy for a nibble and wrinkled her nose in disappointment.

A soft breeze brushed her cheek bringing a familiar, but forgotten scent along with it and she looked up from the uneven path to see what it might be. Seeing nothing, she shook her head thinking that it must be a deer hidden among the trees.

A little farther along she came across another yellow apple. This one she tried last year. They were hard and tart, but baked into a wonderful apple pie with slices that didn’t melt into applesauce by the time the crust was crisp and golden brown. And what made it extra special was the pink in the skin bled into the flesh giving the pie a very soft pink colour. Unfortunately, this tree appeared to be pummelled by a bad case of rust and she wondered if this would hurt it at all, or if it was just cosmetic? She let the branch go and it whipped back up with a soft whifft! sound.

Passing this one by, she kept a sharp eye out for a curious double flowering crabapple she had seen earlier that year, wondering if it set fruit. The soft pink and white flowers had such a lovely spicy scent that even if it didn’t bear fruit, it would be a lovely flowering tree for a small garden.

It did set fruit.

They were about an inch and a half in diameter and again yellow with a pink blush. She didn’t try these ones, but wondered if she could use them for jarred, spiced crab apples?

At this point Calluna double backed on her route, heading home before the sun set, calling out a casual “hello” to a neighbour who had discovered these apple trees too and appreciated them about as much as she did. He gathered them from atop a tall ladder his head and shoulders barely visible among the tree’s branches.

Facing forward Calluna put a hand to her forehead, shading her eyes from the glare of the waning sun, hearing a faint sound.

Clip clop. She heard again, muffled among the trees, yet echoing in the valley.

She looked around, but couldn’t see anything ahead, or across the river.

Shrugging, she continued along her way.

Struggling through a bit of underbrush and carefully around a prickly, prickly wild Pasture rose, she reached for a small tree that had been bent over by a large, fallen limb from one of the maples above. Stretching for a smallish golden fruit with a pretty pink blush, she found her Goldilocks apple. Sweet, slightly spicy and almost fragrant, this was her favourite. It was reminiscent of a Golden Russet. That was a very curious find. How did it come to be here? She wondered and continued to wander along the narrow, dirt path beside the river, enjoying the beautiful weather and fresh fruit while they lasted.

Smiling she came across another apple. It was beautiful with deep green, glossy leaves that were smooth underneath. Crab, she thought. It was a trick her dad taught her a few years ago. Smooth leaves were crabapples. Apples with leaves that were fuzzy underneath were domestic eating apples.

Shiny and deep red, the fruit looked like the sweetest and most beautiful candy apples that she had ever seen at a fall fair. They just begged her to try them. And try them she did.

The first few bites were intensely sweet. Sweeter than any apple she had ever known. Then Calluna closed her eyes, wrinkled her nose and puckered her lips. The following bites were so tannic, they dried out her mouth like an oversteeped cup of tea and she spat them out.

Hearing trickle of laughter from behind her, she cringed, feeling her face tingle and turn as red as the crabapple she just tasted.

Turning to see saw her blunder, Calluna’s embarrassment turned to surprise.

It was . . . what were their names? Her parents’ new neighbours. On horseback silhouetted in the late evening sunlight.

“Hey Calluna, what are you doing here?” asked Ryan, his horse stamping his foot and lightly tossing his bay head and mane.

“I could ask the same of you.” Calluna replied with a twinkle of good humour in her eye. “I live up over there.” She waved a hand broadly over her shoulder by way of an answer.

“The big city calls.” Ryan answered her’s cryptically.

“You moved here?”

“Yes I did. Good to have a friend so close by.” His sharp eyes sparkled at this unexpected development.

“Close by? When?”

“Just up over there, by I——.” He casually raised a hand, motioning behind her.

“Well, then you know this is not the best side of the river to be on if you plan to ride there.”

“And why is that?” Douze, his dour friend, replied wryly.

“Because there’s a creek that runs across the path, you’ll break their legs trying to cross it.”

“Rocky?”

Calluna nodded, “with steep banks.”

“Then how would you suggest we get there?” Douze replied calmly, hazel eyes boring into hers.

Calluna felt the weight of his look and took a deep breath before replying, “it would be better either to cross the bridge and ride along the other side if you are heading south, otherwise I would suggest heading up and across Albion.” She eyed him a bit nervously, going quiet.

Ryan nudged his horse forward, breaking the impasse, “well, I expect we shall see you soon Calluna.”

Douze followed behind in suit, silently following her with his eyes.

Ryan paused, “oh, by the way Calluna. Toronto bylaws state that it’s illegal to forage in city parks.” and gave her a grin.

Calluna just stared at him as they rode away laughing at her mistake. Snap, she thought and guessed she wasn’t gong to be returning for those apples after all.