Here is Grandfather Apple, not quite awakened from his winter slumber. This is our most prolific apple tree, and a very old one. All by itself, it produces more apples than the family can use every year. But left to their own, apple trees tend to have a slow year, then a highly productive year (at least in these parts). This will be a high yield year, and we are very excited, for Grandfather Apple bears the sweetest apples, bushels upon bushels, and they make our best ciders. We cut up the apples and pound them, then crush them with an ancient fruit press that was given us by the wife of an old friend who passed away. That old press, like Grandfather Apple, are priceless treasures.
Sadly, Grandfather Apple’s days are numbered. On the left a major branch has collapsed due to winter wind and snow. I will have to prune it soon and paint the stump to prevent infection. I have left a protective hedge of evergreens around the tree to shield it from the wind but one day–perhaps a year from now, perhaps ten–I fear the old tree shall topple. But there are many other wild apple trees around the homestead, and we’ve planted more. But none, I think, shall ever match the serene beauty and productivity of Grandfather Apple.