Picking Apples on a Most Amazing Day

I don’t know how to start this post:
with what is sure to be
a woefully inadequate description
of a most amazing day?
The tall firs against the blue, blue sky
the warmth of the almost equinox sun.
Or with the understated fact
that I would rather pick apples
than do just about anything else?
Snagging the crimson-streaked golden orbs
with the apple picker and dropping them into my basket.
Sharing the orchard with the deer family,
who keep their distance but don’t run off.
Lying in the grass, resting from my labor
that can’t possibly be considered work.
I think when I wrote these words in my head,
they were the start of a longer post,
but now I don’t know what more there is to say.


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