Read by Matilda Longbottom

Growing up, my great-aunt owned an apple orchard. To me, it was a place of magic and wonder. The gnarled apple trees, stretching as far as the eye could see, looked like a scene from The Wizard of Oz. But there were no wicked witches there, although there was a scarecrow or two.

Every October, the entire family would take the 30-minute drive to Aunt Lorraine’s house for an afternoon filled with picking apples, making cider, and family fun. I come from a large family, so this was no small feat.

The first thing in the morning, we would all meet up at my grandparents’ house. This home had been the hub of our family for over 60 years. We would then get ready to carpool. This was well before the introduction of seatbelt laws. My grandparents’ truck had a cap over the truck bed, and inside the bed were benches along each side and a table in the center. All of us grandkids who could sit up on our own would pile in the back. My grandmother would open the sliding window on the back of the cab, put a Roger Miller tape in the tape deck, and off we would go.

Thirty minutes pass in the blink of an eye now, but back then it seemed to take forever. We played games, sang about roller skating in a buffalo herd, and laughed so hard our sides ached. I’m sure there were squabbles and questions of “Are we there yet?” but those don’t stand out in my memories.

Finally, we would arrive, and with just a little bit of pushing and shoving, we would all hop out of the back of the truck and take off for our afternoon of wonder. Our parents (very thankful for the peaceful ride without us) would remind us of the orchard rules, hand bags to us older kids put the apples in, and send us off to our adventure.

To us, it was not just an apple orchard. To our very active imaginations, we had been dropped onto another planet and were searching for other life forms. Or we were explorers tracking through a new land. Or, my favorite, we were on a special mission and needed to complete certain tasks before the day was done. Wherever our imaginations managed to take us, we were so happy to all be there together.

I’m pretty sure we ate about as many apples as we placed in the bags. We stood in awe as we watched apple cider being made. We sat on the grass and enjoyed a picnic of sandwiches for lunch. We reveled in the warm sun and cool breeze of Fall.

After a nearly perfect day, we would all load back up into the truck and cars to head for home. The younger cousins often fell asleep on the benches in the back of the truck, while the older kids played a few more games of Go Fish. We were all a little quieter after a long day in the sun. My grandmother would often look back and smile.

We all grew up, my great-aunt sold the orchard, and those magical days came to an end. They live on, though, in my memories. Every October, I think fondly of those wonderful family days. I grab an apple, put Roger Miller on the radio, and smile. ❖