Apple trees are everywhere. I see them in yards, on farms, off the Airline. Wild ones abound. I see them on the backroads, the logging roads, the trails I run on. No longer do I wonder why apple orchards don’t exist out this way. We have four apples tress in our backyard. One is a MacIntosh. One is a crab apple. I forget what the other two are, but they produce apples that are sweet and taste similar to the Mac. It's time to bake a pie.
We're new in a town of 265 residents. Word gets around fast and well over half of the new folks we've met already know of us. "Oh, you're the teachers." Yes, that's us.
From our house, it's a run down a one mile stretch of paved road until I reach the logging roads and trails. Every time, everyone I see along the way waves. It's always a friendly wave, something more than a courtesy.
The trails near our new home are nothing short of fantastic. They lead to scenic backwoods ponds lined with trees, full of trout (or so I hear) and void of camps. They climb steep hills and meander through amazing forests. I've seen footprints from moose, deer, raccoons and maybe a bobcat or lynx so far. I've also seen bear poop. However, with so much woods, it makes it easier for them to hide. I did see a porcupine this morning though. Hopefully other cool animals will be seen very soon.
I think that'll be the case.
2 comments:
a. That sounds idyllic.
b. One of my strongest memories of my early running days on the MDI cross-country team is the faint but unmistakable scent of apples in the air. Crabapples in particular. Like you said, the mid-Maine woods are full of 'em. Feral ones, the remnants of long-ago orchards? Who knows. Plenty of Septober runs ended with impromptu apple picking and eating. Huge nostalgia for that super sour thirst quench.
We have a lone, ancient apple tree behind our camp. Still serves up enough apples for applesauce each year.
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