I know, I know. Every year at this time, every New England blogger posts the obligatory picts of family apple picking. Cliché it may be, but in our defense, apple picking is an important ritual here; one that marks the beginning of our signature season. An old fashioned affair, it ties us to the land and to our historic past.
Our family apple picking experience was all of these things and perhaps more so. For this year, we did not go to an overly commercialized farm with a gift shop and petting zoo. Instead we went to the shore. Right across the street to Grandma’s house, where a single survivor of her once modest orchard continues to brave the salt spray, producing at least enough apples for a pie or two. Here the extra curriculars on offer included: puddle splashing, aster picking on the lawn, tree climbing, and a brand new swing (the only one of its kind with an orchard and a sea view!)… Just how I used to while away a fall day at Gram’s. It was not an adventure. Just a day in the life of Cape Cod.