Red Apples

Coming home to a gift from my friend Hannah.

Love how she used the litter tray that was floating around for a container. I truly love this. I love resourcefulness. We have no cats right now, and we’ve been using this to sift big bits out of our composted leaf mould into the raised beds.

These are my favourite shoes.

Apples are really plentiful this year, the wet spring, the warm summer. Last year, there were very few. I feel strongly the vagaries of unpredictable extreme weather, records broken constantly in all ways, up, down, wetter, wettest, dryer, driest, strange and ever stranger. A positive mental consequence is that I no longer take anything for granted, and have a much keener sense of gratitude.

Last year, I could imagine that maybe someday apples would be scarce. And maybe they will be, because pollinating bees are in such terrible jeopardy. This year though, there are so many apples around, in shops, on trees everywhere– and more “eating” apples, though I’d come to think of “cooking” apples as those simply less ripe or sweet, having had less time in warm sunshine to become…. so immediately edible. I feel a reprieve, though maybe it’s false– the day apples end is pushed further forward. And a renewed imperative to fight in my small ways for the survival of everything that matters.

It’s a balmy autumn day. There was white sky, and a blue sky, and a sense of changeability, and now some drizzle. Even normal doesn’t feel normal.  I can no longer not have a sadness about so many things, which all feel a part of the cycles of “nature” that have been so … shunted into unknown possibility.  Apples feel a part of this story.  So, gratitude for them, big thank you to Hannah, and slice them in quarters to offer to my children.

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PS  I want to write about something I’ve learned about through a friend in London.  On 7th of October, yesterday, Camberwell Community Green Orchard was bulldozed  by Southwark Council for a building scheme that could have happened elsewhere and which was fought by the community.  You can read about this on the internet.  I am really feeling this terrible loss.   It had been a garden project, 20 years ago, in which children established an urban orchard that would be a sanctuary for years to come.   There’s a violence to the destruction of trees, of a garden, of the fruition of people’s efforts towards healing and sanctifying our cities with beauty.  My friend is really upset.  I’ve never been to this orchard, but I too feel upset.  Because we critically need to be creating these spaces, and in a time in which this is so clear, a council, representing government, aggressively spits on our hopes for a livable future.

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