Joe and I made our annual hike down to the abandoned apple orchard off the Blue Ridge Parkway. Last year the apples were puny. This year there were none. Either we were too late for the picking or the trees didn’t bear fruit this year. I couldn’t fill my backpack, so I filled my camera with the color and beauty of where we live.
There were no apples, but there was plenty of thistle. And only one fleeting monarch sighting.
It was the kind of day that Andrew Wyeth would want to paint.
After our short hike, Joe went back to work and I met up with some friends for a neighborhood walk.
“I’d rather live with red weeping eyes than close my windows and stay inside.” I said, telling my friends that a round of steroid and antibiotic drops, taken with the hope of healing my red itchy eyes, was unsuccessful and I was considering whether it was allergies.
Aka hay fever. We have plenty of hay in Floyd.
And how could this harmless looking flower bother so many people?
After our neighborhood sightseeing walk, I took a real Sunday drive, looking for monarchs and such.
I drove up to the Parkway overlooks where I discovered the rising moon.
Later, when I told Joe about my sightseeing trips, he asked, “What did you see?” “More thistle, cows and the moon,” I answered.
It was the kind of day you want to bottle, which somewhat makes up for having no apples.
Post note: You can read a 2005 post about Joe’s and my apple picking tradition HERE.