Each year as Fall/Autumn begins to be felt in the air I venture out to Sauvie Island for apples.
Really it is only about half an hour from my house, not far at all.
Though close it feels like another world.
One of my favorite stops is the vintage apple orchard.
All the apples are vintage varieties and so beautiful to see in every season.
But this time of the year it strongly pulls me in and I must walk right here alone under the trees.
Aren't they gorgeous?
Of course they are to me!
Growing up in a family that were apple farmers
it just feels like I am home right here under these trees.
Do you find something from your childhood just draws you in when you find
a similar something? I would love to hear what it is.
Is it a country walk or a walk down a certain city street?
What makes you feel like you are home if only for a few minutes
or a stop along a country road?
Happy Weekend, dear friends!
I'm going to have to think about an answer to your question at the end of this post. I know there are things -- but I couldn't tell you right this second!
ReplyDeleteBut it is a beautiful orchard and I can see why it would bring back memories. I bet we'll be seeing some apple treats here soon!
Having been busy baking this week, pulling the large English yellow-ware mixing bowl out made me feel I was a child again doing the same thing with my mother in her kitchen. I loved cooking alongside my mother
ReplyDeleteas she was such a great cook, never even measured ingredients, and her cakes came out fit for the Queen, haha!
Those apple trees are loaded! Looking forward to NC ones coming in soon - another Autumn expectation.
Hugs - Mary
Those vintage apples are gorgeous! My dad has apples on his land (not where I grew up, but where he and my mom moved about seven or eight years ago), but they are not "good" apples and are mostly given to the animals for food. But what makes me feel at home, oddly enough, is seeing big banks of kudzu! The area where I live outside Atlanta doesn't have too much of it, but when I head to "the country" and my dad's, I begin to see big mountains of kudzu overtaking dilapidated houses, and it says "home" to me. (Funny since Southerners HATE kudzu now!)
ReplyDelete