And if I'm left whispering and gesturing incoherently by the middle of the week, at least I can communicate by writing and sketching, as in these journal pages. (I suppose I'll have to get much quicker at it though!)
This is one of two adjoining pages from my illustrated journal -- the theme of the two pages being Fruit, and more particularly, Fruit Harvested from our Container-Grown Trees.
To the left of the page is a sketch of the last apple from our Scarlet Sentinel tree. The text below it says, Paul found the last of the Scarlet Sentinel apples today, fallen into a niche between the containers.
Across the bottom of the page, I've written, Then later, walking to mail a letter, I spied these two, and more, fallen from an old tree in a neglected yard. And suddenly remembered the gold-green, free-fallen apples Joel [my year-younger brother] and I would pluck off the ground at the house just above Kingsway/12th Street on the north side of 7th Avenue -- on our way to the Library or Swimming Pool.
Musing off that journal page, I remember that those apples were sweeter than the Transparent apples growing on our backyard tree, the ones my mom made into applesauce and apple pies and Apple Betty (aka Brown Betty aka Apple Crisp). . . And I remember that most of the back yards in our neighbourhood had at least one fruit tree. . . .
To the right of the page, written parallel to the book's spine: Those apples ripened much earlier than our Scarlet Sentinels, and they'd nestle on the ground among the magically golden stamens of the Hypericum (St. John's Wort).
You can't tell from my photo, but the red apples I found scattered over the ground were bug-bitten and decaying -- that's a little worm peeking out of the top apple, as I've written alongside. . . .
In the middle of the page, writing top down, I've thought about apples my own kids picked up:
There were a few places on Protection Island with old, neglected apple trees -- Megan & Zach picked one or two up, I believe. But I wonder if any kids would bother much now. . .
Because I have a ferry to catch (walk; Skytrain; bus), I'll save the second Fruit page for next post. I'll leave you with a recent OOTD (Outfit of the Day) post, and I'll ask you what memories you might have of free falling fruit; whether you see any around you these days; whether or not you'd pick up a piece to taste or to take home and use; whether, perhaps, you know of Gleaning projects in your community that take advantage of such bounty.
Lisa's week before last.) . . . Nor while we sat on a sunny terrace at a new-to-us (and very good) Vietnamese restaurant in our neighbourhood. . . .Nor when we joined my sister and brother-in-law who'd made an impromptu visit to a craft-beer brewery just down the street. . . .
Still, I'm hunting out my gloves -- we have another week of sunshine ahead, apparently, but the thermometer is dipping lower each evening. . . . soon I'll have to wear tights, or at least socks, with those Oxfords. That pink is not going to warm me enough much longer. . .