apple picking always signals the beginning of fall for our house in the same way that strawberry picking means spring.
we always go to the same farm even though it is a long drive and the apples aren’t organic. we always take the wrong exit and vow that we won’t do that again next year. we do these illogical things because we are almost always the only ones out in the orchard and that is what makes it ours.
later in the season we will probably go again with grandparents or friends to one of those places with hay rides and deep-fried oreos, we’ve got nothing against that.
but, at least once we go all on our own and run around together enjoying some of the season’s first apples and its long shadows.