My Apple Trees

This isn’t really my stand of apple trees

I merely paid for the right
To assume the responsibility
Of caring for their well being
A Maple tree is different a commitment. 
Simply plant it in the right sunlight
Water it for the first few months
Mother Nature will take over and do the rest
Then every year you are reminded of her job well done
When the sky fills with little whirly birds
With each breeze that passes

Planting a Winesap is the beginning of a relationship

I followed that up with a McIntosh, Golden Delicious, Prairie Spy, and Honey Crisp
Now with a family
At times like children who require love and nurturing
Sure, I could leave them to their own devices
I could enjoy spring blooms and return in the fall with a bucket
As if I were taking a trip to some orchard expecting a bountiful harvest
However I would end up with weedy looking trees
Who bore only knotty, fruity, little red balls
Offering a hint that an apple tree could be a close relative
Worms would be thankful
Squirrel, opossums and raccoon too

My grandmother taught me

Working at the relationship
Will reward with a bounty
An abundance that will surprise and feed
Wildlife, family, friends, and neighbors
Revealing a taste that delights with every a bite

Starting with winter as the trees are sleeping

Trimming away the water sprouts and blocking branches
Creating strong laterals and sturdy leaders
I trim a while then sit in the tree, rest and think of her
A different point of view we two
From those who see it as work
As the weather warms I watch the buds swell
Then finally burst forth
Bees on the move seem to make each tree come alive 
From one bloom to the next they pollinate then procreate
Birds sing in the branches then chose the perfect crook
To nest and hatch their brood
Robins returning annually to our golden

From May through early September I walk and look

When mornings cool, the leaves begin to weaken
Telling all that fall is peaking around the corner
Summer’s heat fades to autumn warmth
I pick an apple checking the sugars
Wondering if they’ve changed from bitter to tart
When the juice rolls down my chin and I know
The next month our home will be sweet
With the smell of stewing apples
Cooking for sauce, pie filling and apple butter
Preserving the goodness
For another day, another generation
For this isn’t just a relationship
Between the trees and me
Neighborhood kids reach for a snack
Women stop by to pick for pie

It’s the friendly smile of my grandmother

Alive in my mind
Her voice saying with certainty
You can’t buy apples with this taste
I know can’t buy a seat that gives me the view
I get from these branches when the leaves are few
I can’t pray enough to find the peace
I get from dreaming in that perch
Going back to a different time
On her farm, pruning her trees
The sound of her screen door slam
Announcing dinner in a voice seasoned by age and Kentucky drawl
I’ve made biscuits to go with the apple butter
She was right
Some trees have nuts
Others offer shade
Apple trees provide a lifestyle
Feeding, enriching, and expanding my soul