Autumn – the year's last, loveliest smile.
How do I know it’s fall?
The air is scented with cinnamon.
I wake up with cats on my head (they have no cold tolerance whatsoever).
And the pear and apple trees in my little orchard are loaded with fruit.
Truth be told, I do not deserve the latter’s generosity. My lack of skills in orchard management is legendary (I know I am a person who actually gets paid to lie… um… write fiction, but you have to trust me on this one). I once had a full-grown apple tree FALL OVER because I failed to de-bud. Yeah, it was THAT top-heavy. You'd think that maybe I would have noticed.
Fear not, all you tree huggers out there – we righted her and with a bit of clever pruning she has been doing fine in the years since “the incident.”
The worst part is that everyone on my street knows that I’m an inept arborist, AND they’re never shy about letting me know that they know. Neighbors stop by all the time to give me “helpful” advice. They cluck and shake their heads. One spring day, the postman even pulled into the drive to offer a little “color commentary” regarding my pruning skills. The postman!
That’s how bad I am.
I’m pretty sure that I’ll be hearing from the Lorax soon.
But my incompetence in this area never seems to matter. Those trees forgive me (yes, even me!) each and every year by producing more fruit than I can manage.
So, it’s time to gather it all in and make something of it –
Ciders and sauces,
Butters and pies.
How can you not fall in love?
PROMPT: It’s harvest time! So grab a cup of warm cider and gather all of your story ideas on clean sheets of paper. Preserve carefully – you’re going to need them in a few months when the snow flies.