A fruitful season

With leftover flood water and a gentle spring, our fruit trees were in overdrive this summer. It was a nice change from the barren wasteland that was last year, but I've learned that overabundance has its own pitfalls...

We start with the campus fruits. Yes, I can walk from my office to procure these, and do so just about every late June.

Mulberries are tricky. They need to be turned into something else in a hurry after picking, or you lose them overnight (and then spend hours weeding them out of the garden after you forget you composted them and their millions of seeds). Luckily, I found a nice solution for a summer afternoon.

The neighborhood peach tree took the summer off, so there was a bit of a lull, but by late August, the apples began to appear.

I've made a mental map of the best trees I've found in the last few years and this year I scouted new trees on bike rides, finally throwing the picker in the car in mid-September. I found so many kinds and most beat store-bought fruit by a mile. Seriously, better than honey crisp. I went a little nuts that Sunday afternoon, especially after I stumbled upon the hundred year old orchard.

No one could keep up. The local wildlife has had their fill. Many just floated away.

Forty pounds. And it all would have been perfect, if it weren't for those meddling kids there had been room in the fridge. Between the corn and the peppers and the chard, they just wouldn't fit. So they sat in the garage. (Pro tip: If you're going to bring home excessive produce, have a plan. Or at least a spare fridge.)

I managed two apple cakes, a crumble and some juice and some sauce, but then the wrinkling started. And the fruit flies moved in. I still have plans for more sauce and some apple butter for those who haven't completely succumbed to decay, but the worms will enjoy the rest.

I feel a little bit guilty about wasting them, but then I remember how many I stepped over on the ground around every tree. And how many I left on every tree. And how many trees are in this city. And I look down the street and see the tree that no one's touched.

After all, the air is crisp and there are still pies to be made. And pop tarts. And galettes. And the fridge is less full now. And I just might have brought home ten more apples that I picked over the lunch hour this afternoon...