She took me down the big pine hill to the edge of the woods where she’d found an old gnarled apple tree. The apples were beautiful, delicious, and surprisingly blemish free. We gathered them together and I told her that my favorite apples come from trees that are wild.
This bounty kept us busy all day long!
One thing I like most about doing a daily photo project is how I’ve begun to recognize the ebb and flow of creative energy. I’ll often have a particularly inspiring photography session — a burst of ideas — just after a dull-feeling day or series of days.
The apple tree
on the lane —
“It must be more than 60 years old,”
And it still gives
Who planted it?
How many have gathered from its branches?
The tree stretches out its limbs and fruit so willingly —
unlike the orchard down the road that now sits just behind
bright red “NO TRESPASSING” signs.
This question of belonging,
it dwells with me.
These old apple trees —
can we own them?