The Apple Tree

Look up and see that, although gnarled with age, the burdened limbs hang just above your head and sway under the weight of their generous yield. The fruit calls to you. Go ahead and pick one. Wrap your fingers around and tug, you only need a small tug, mind you. Snap.

The branch applauds your choice with a few excited bobs, delighted to share. In your hand, the apple is perfectly imperfect, nothing like the ones found in grocery stores. You can see the light streaks making their way through the red. The small dimples and bumps shine, as if the whole fruit had been dipped in wax. Although misshapen, the fruit fits perfectly in your grip.

Go on, take a bite! Juice immediately drips down your fingers as you move your teeth through the flesh, but it doesn’t keep your attention. The crunch fills your ears, ice-crisp. You find that the juice is as sweet as honey, sweeter, and fresh. It becomes your only focus as it coats your tongue

At the base of the tree, large roots have found their way above the soil’s surface, curling around each other in easy waves. Sit against the trunk and allow yourself to relax as the roots mold themselves perfectly around your form.

Keep enjoying the sugar trickling down your throat. Enjoy the view, the endless field before you. Enjoy the cool shade against your skin, and warmth where sunlight dapples your face. Enjoy the fresh, earthy scent carried by the easy breeze, and the rustling of the grass moving through it. Enjoy this moment, and let the world pass you by.