13: Who’s the Apple of My Eye?
1. It’s that time of year where we live on the scenic Blue Ridge Parkway, which means tourists enjoying the fall foliage and apple picking, a yearly tradition for Joe and I.
2. Apple picking sacrament /is the irony of Eden / The body and blood / of holy communion / Fruit of her womb / round red blessings / I’m humbled in the presence / of Eve’s holy host. – poem written sometime during the ‘90s.
3. Apples played a part in Joe’s and my first meeting. See HERE.
4. I presented Joe with a poem at our wedding at the Saddle Overlook. He presented me with an apple that I proceeded to ceremoniously eat. See HERE.
5. I often personify “poetry” in my poems, and by “poetry” I mean an elusive entity that, like with dreams, is an extension of self. When I write about writing poetry I’m expressing my desire to be rejoined with the encoded part of myself and the with work I was made to do, for which I have no blueprint.
6. This year’s stash.
7. But then went back the next day with Joe’s hiking pack and found the Red Delicious tree. After years of not producing, it was overflowing with bounty. It was the best year for apples in general that we have seen in a very long time.
8. The yearly apple picking is usually topped off with the watching of the sunset, as it was this year. See HERE.
9. When our eyes become / adjusted to darkness / we call ourselves poets / The ones who stand / too close to the speakers / listening for the hum / of the world’s forgotten song / We wait for falling stars / to burn in our laps / for dread to pass / and time to stop… Read When We Wait More Than We Write in its entirety HERE.
10. THIS is not supper for The Three Bears. It’s Liam and Joe’s regular camp ramen with buffalo jerky. The hot noodles went well with popcorn that was popped over the open fire… More on Rock Castle Camp-out HERE.
11. Joe call this picture “Highway to Heaven.”
12. Harvest Moon shopping list for apple crisp: raisins, honey, oatmeal, pecans and walnuts, pastry flour and eggs. Our hens have stopped laying.
13. “Time never challenged the Indian or worked against him. Time was for silently marking the passing of season. It was a thing to be enjoyed.” -Tim Giago
__________Thirteen Thursday
October 20th, 2022 2:13 pm
Oh, I do love that last quote, when the seasons now are flying by, and the years blend together like the ingredients for a cake.
October 20th, 2022 10:37 pm
I love this post from beginning to end. The first picture made me smile–so playful. The Eve poem is wonderful. The tone of the entire poem–tender and loving–warms the heart.
October 21st, 2022 12:49 am
Loved the poem – When We Wait More Than We Write…Your words inspire me more often than you would know (for I wait more than I write those words!).. And one other reason I write is to practice writing so I can one day inspire others like you do….
October 21st, 2022 1:14 pm
It’s gorgeous your way! The birds and other creatures ate nearly all our apples this year. We don’t mind, their resources are getting fewer with all the developments going up around here.