Crab Apples

I cycled to a favourite spot of mine: a bridge over a culvert,  between our town and the next village. Along the stream the willows were still in full leaf. I’ve been getting rather lazy on my bike,  but I really must go further, and soon, to look for blackberries to gather in hedges far from roads.  Saplings of willow seemed to have spread into the stream. The evening sun was golden and, as I paused  on the wall of the bridge, my eye was caught by  a few clusters of  plump crab apples  among the willow fronds. They were tinged with russet red. They were ripe, lustrous and had a dewy gleam  in the strong light of this late afternoon. They were out of reach but that didn’t matter. No apples on a tray in a supermarket, however perfectly formed have given the joy to me, of this simple discovery.

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One Response to Crab Apples

  1. lleweton says:

    Thank you for your Like, Pooka. Pottering on again, I hope.

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