Well, it is nearly three weeks into the new school year, and I can honestly say I am nearly settled in:
to the new school
To the new house
to the new workload.

While it is all very intense here, and stressful being alone and without my sister at school with me, it is also very enjoyable.

And while boxes still speckle our house and homework dwells heavily in my mind, I decided to take two breaks today. One- to go apple picking. And another to share that experience with all of you.

Every couple of years my family and I would visit this orchard in the autumn to pick some apples and a few jugs of apple cider. This year, we went back for the last time. Next year, it will be more developments. After seventy years, the tractor rides will no longer go round the rows of trees.

So what better way to share with you, than with a poem I wrote while munching a fruit beneath the tree of Eden?

A Day In Tamed Wilderness
 
The day stretched ahead of us
Like the auburn carpeted path
Beneath our leather clad feet.
 
Memories, waiting to unfold
Hung-heavy- suspended
On weighted boughs.
 
The trees rear up to either side of us,
In contrast. One crimson, the other
Verdant still. Speckled with blood.
 
Fog looms up before us.
With a few, vigorous movements
It gleams in the sun once more.
 
A crunch. The tear of flesh.
And liquid life springs, dripping, from my lips
Along with a childish gleeful grin.
 
A plunk. A clank.
A shuffling scrape as the load rolls around
The still empty- soon to be bushel, basket.
 
A fire engine leers up before us.
Decisively and defensively he pulls out a switch blade
And slices into the juicy tissue.
 
There before us we see
A beautiful sight. One never seen before.
And never to be seen again.
 
A luminous star- startling black specks
On a striking, spotless white disk.
On a severed orb of scarlet silk.
 
We both take a half
Like an old fairy tale.
But this time, we both live.
 
We frolic and flit between the trees
Until another fruit lights up the sky.
With heavy hearts, we leave the orchard.
 
Knowing that if we return, next autumn,
This haven of tame wilderness,
Will be no more than more houses.