It is fall, time to go apple picking. Timeto climb trees to get the nicest apple and shine it on your shirt untilyou see your reflection. Then take a juicy bite and say to yourself,It’s better than store bought.

Apple picking is not justabout apples; it is traditional and a bit sentimental. In that littlefarm store, you smell the bitter cider and taste the sweet flavor, ordevour that apple cider doughnut calling you. You take in the sweetsmell of cinnamon and sugar as well as the taste. Then you lick yoursugary fingers and wish for another. You watch the doughnuts as they aremade and the people drink the cider and coffee. You carry your heavy bagof apples to the car and ogle the half-colorful, still-changing leaveshoping to witness the process complete. You go back inside, into thewalk-in refrigerator, feel the cold air and look around. Then gaze atthe beehive that is man-made and transparent; the bees don’t seemto mind. Watch the people work, and walk around glancing at items beingsold. Now it’s time to sit on the comfortable, old-fashioned couchand read the sign that jokes “Sure, you can come in the kitchen ifyou’re willing to work” or something equally corny. Youleave the store and enjoy walking through the haystacks, cornstalks andpumpkin patch. You look at the old tools before jumping on the hay ride.What a day, what a brisk, breezy wonderful fall day. It is autumn, timefor apple picking and pie making.