I'm just back from my annual "fall harvest
tour," with five bushels of apples in the back of the truck.
That's not including the two buckets full of crab apples. It
was a very good year for apples, despite the dry summer.
Most of the apples I picked were at a
friend's organic farm south of Collingwood. They have a hundred
or so trees in their orchard, and this year they grew more
apples than they ever have before. I was invited to pick apples
to my heart's content.
This orchard was planted many years ago with
at least 10 different varieties of apples. Bright yellow apples
and deep red, intermixed with little rusty
green apples and a few golden pear trees just
for fun. I think most of the apples are heritage
varieties.
There was only one I recognized by name - the
Russet, one of my favourites. Russets are golden-green,
overlain with rusty brown. They are firm, tart apples, which
keep well right through the winter.
Some of the apples I picked were a very deep
red, and they shone brilliantly when polished on my shirt. I
crunched into them to find they were quite hard, and not very
sweet. I picked half a box of these . Chances are good they
will be the long keepers - getting better as they age through
the winter.
The next row had dusty red apples, with a
rough surface that did not polish to a glittering shine. I was
delighted to crunch into one, and found it to be golden yellow
inside, and sweet as sweet can be. Mmmm! I had to stop picking
for a few minutes while I ate that apple to the core.
There weren't many of these apples left on
the trees, as a fierce windstorm had passed through the day
before I got there. But these apples were so good, that I
picked up the nice ones that had fallen into the soft green
grass. These have to be eaten or preserved within a week,
before the hidden bruises took their toll.
I passed by the pear trees as I carried my
first box of apples to the road. It was a hot, sunny day.
Several pears lay in the grass, soaking up the sun. I picked up
one golden pear that had a beautiful blush of red on one side.
It was warm and juicy, and very, very sweet. Ummmmm!
I spent a couple of hours in the orchard,
tasting and picking. Sorting the apples as I picked so I would
know which to put into storage, and which we would eat in the
next few weeks.
The next morning, I moved on to the hedgerow.
Wild apple trees intermingle with crab apples, hawthorns and
roses in the spaces between the fields. I tasted an apple from
each tree, and if it was good, I filled my basket. Yum! Some of
the trees produced very good apples. I filled a couple of
bags as well. In separate bags, I picked
hawthorn berries, and rosehips. Then more apples, big ones and
little ones.
With the back of my truck filled with apples,
I happily drove northward, and home. But as I drove, I saw more
trees full of unpicked fruit - trees in abandoned fields, trees
along the roadside, and trees in hedgerows. Look at all the
apples! I wanted to pick them all!
Viki Mather lives by a lake near Sudbury.
