I’m ignoring the calendar and saying it is officially fall. It was in the 30s several mornings in a row and I had to break out my gloves for the first time this year on a morning dog walk. Gloves mean fall.
One of my friends lives on a property with an old apple orchard. It isn’t really maintained anymore, except for some pruning, but is still producing apples. When the wind blows right in the fall, the field in front of her house smells like applesauce.
We tromped over there one lunch break, dogs in tow. Lots of the apples have blemishes on their skin, but my plan is to make apple crisp and applesauce and will peel them, so it didn’t bother me.
We headed back with bags full of apples, and two happy dogs who loved sniffing around the orchard.
I’m hoping to get out into another orchard this season to pick some Cortlands, but this was a pretty great start. Welcome fall, my favorite season!