My long two-pointed ladder’s sticking through a tree Towards heaven still, And there’s a barrel that I didn’t fill Beside it, and there may be two or three Apples I didn’t pick upon some bough. Years ago to pick apples it was necessary to use a long-pointed ladder to climb high enough to reach the apples in a tree. Now days the ladders are not needed since the trees are not as tall as they once were. Our daughter’s family came home for our annual apple picking outing at Gardiner’s Orchard, in Troy. In about a half hour, we picked two bushels of Cortlands for the apple butter stir at Mt. Pisgah State Park and a bushel and a half for ourselves. |
Did you know that after Noah left the ark, he became a grape grower? Although grapes are credited with being the fi rst fruit cultivated by man, I believe the apple has to be a close second. The apple’s scientifi c name is the Latin word Malus, meaning “bad”. Words related to the apple are found throughout Europe. From earliest times, the word apple was applied to all fruit in general. There are some people that say the apple Eve gave to Adam, in the Garden of Eden, was a pomegranate, which is Latin and means the “many-seeded apple”. But I am done with apple-picking now. Essence of winter sleep is on the night, The scent of apples: I am drowsing off. I cannot rub the strangeness from my sight I got from looking through a pane of glass In approximately 1625, the apple, which was very important to the early colonists, was fi rst planted in Massachusetts. William Blaxton (pronounced Blackstone), who was a clergyman, owned the farm on Beacon Hill, where the fi rst apple orchard was planted. Our word cider is derived from the Hebrew word shekar, meaning intoxicating drink. The most important use of the apple in colonial times was for cider. Now, this was not the sweet cider that we drink but hard cider, the fermented kind. I skimmed this morning from the drinking trough And held against the world of hoary grass. It melted, and I let it fall and break. But I was well Upon my way to sleep before it fell, Because the water was polluted in Europe, they drank wines made from grapes and beer. Although this new country had an abundance of fresh water, the early settlers still feared drinking the water. The colonists found wild grapes abundant in America; however, the wine made from these wild grapes had a bitter taste. Although the colonists tried planting European grapes, an insect that lived in the soil destroyed the roots. And I could tell What form my dreaming was about to take. Magnifi ed apples appear and disappear, Stem end and blossom end, And every fl eck of russet showing clear. So, the colonists turned to the apple, from which cider was made to drink. Cider also had many other uses, such as cider vinegar, which was used in pickling, one of the important methods the colonists had of preserving vegetables and fruits; also apple cider was distilled into a type of brandy known as applejack. (To make applejack, hard cider needed to freeze, the colder the temperature, the higher proof the applejack). The colonists wasted nothing. The apple peels and cores were dried to use in brewing a non-drinking kind of beer. While the beer was fermenting, a froth, which was rich in yeast, would rise to the top. This froth was used in making bread. Every early American home had a beer barrel for drinking but even more so as a good source of yeast. My instep arch not only keeps the ache, It keeps the pressure of a ladder- round. I feel the ladder sway as the boughs bend. And I keep hearing from the cellar bin The rumbling sound Of load on load of apples coming in. For I have had too much Of apple-picking: I am overtired. We all remember the story about Johnny Appleseed, whose given name was John Chapman. He was born in Leominster, Massachusetts, in 1774, and left home at the age of eighteen to begin meandering west. History has it that young John planted his fi rst apple tree here in Pennsylvania, along the Big Brokenstraw Creek, near the town of Warren. Of the great harvest I myself desired. There were ten thousand fruit to touch, Cherish in hand, lift down, and not let fall For all that struck the earth, No matter if not bruised or spiked with stubble, Went surely to the cider-apple heap As no worth. One can see what will trouble This sleep of mine, whatever sleep it is. Where he not gone, The woodchuck could say whether it’s like his Long sleep, as I describe is coming on, Or just some human sleep. "After Apple-picking" by Robert Frost.
Comments are closed.
|
Local ColumnistsFind articles by date or topic through quick links below. Categories
All
Archives
March 2020
|