orchard

In June, we planted a small orchard on the north side of our house. If five mature apple trees constitute an orchard. We like to think so. On the southside of the house we have ten apple trees planted, all in varying stages of age, eight we added to the property ourselves. Two of the trees, which are intertwined, have been here for longer than anyone on the hill can remember. All total, this seems to be at least the beginning of an orchard. And we've already ordered another six mature trees to plant next spring in the hope to surround our house with fruit trees, in the hope to surround our house in bounty.

Once, many years ago, after we were first married, we thought we might buy a house. We were living in the broad plain of the Champlain Valley in Vermont, beautiful rolling meadows that extend to the Lake. A small orchard house nestled in the middle of a forgotten apple orchard came up for sale and we became enamored of the little cape and the dramatically gnarled trees. Time and money were of consequence, and the time was not right for a little house in an orchard, but ever since then we have been partial to the thought. Sometimes, we are very nostalgic for the landscape and the life we might have had there. I have no doubt our time in Italy living, visiting, and staying in homes surrounded by vineyards and olive groves has somehow also informed this little dream. A table beneath a tree, a branch laden with fruit, a bottle of wine and two glasses, a wedge of cheese, a hunk of bread.....

Our new apple trees, Liberty apples, are full and the branches are bending with the weight of the reddening fruit. We've become a little melancholy as we approach the close of the growing season even though autumn is full of awaited harvest. We've begun to pick what's ready to fall off and collecting them in a basket and making a list of slightly bittersweet dishes we'll prepare with them: apple tarts, apple pies, a risotto with shrimp and apple, an apple brandy.....