Sharing the Harvest

[marmar]

from YES! Magazine:



Sharing the Harvest
What to do when your apple trees don't produce? Start ringing doorbells, says radical homemaker Shannon Hayes.

by Shannon Hayes
posted Oct 22, 2010

It is as harmless as a dove, as beautiful as a rose, and as valuable as flocks and herds. It has been longer cultivated than any other, and so is more humanized…for when man migrates, he carries with him not only his birds, quadrupeds, insects, vegetables, and his very sword, but his orchard also.

—Henry David Thoreau (Wild Apples, 1862)

If I had to choose one food whose flavor fully encapsulates the glory of fall, it would have to be the wild apple. One can close her eyes, take a bite, and know what it is to taste an autumn-blue sky accented by golden rods, deep purple asters, the lush of green pasture, and the first red leaves on the sugar maples.

Bob and I make plans with our friend Bernie for our annual fall cider pressing. Once the date is set, our job is to meander through the feral orchards gifted to us by the earliest settlers on our respective farms, sample each tree’s offerings, and gather fruit. Our “pressing club” has one simple rule: No commercial apples. The best cider should capture the ethereal ambrosia surrounding an untainted orchard. That means foraging and mixing countless old varieties to balance sweet, tart and floral flavors, creating a glorious blend that honors our earliest agrarian predecessors, and nourishes us all winter long.

Trouble is, this year, there are hardly any apples to be found on our land. A late localized snowstorm that killed our blossoms and dampened our spirits at the start of the growing season haunts us yet again, thwarting our cider harvest. Bernie reports that he’ll have ample apples to meet his needs for pressing. But we can hardly scare up a bushel. Our trees may have borne no fruit, but Bob and I notice apples glittering, untouched, on trees throughout the community—in abandoned pastures, road sides, and forest edges. I should feel buoyed by the abundant potential harvest surrounding me, but I don’t. None of the apple trees sit on land owned by people I know. In order to access them, I will have to knock, uninvited, on the doors of strangers and request permission to gather the harvest.

I believe in the power of building community, of expanding resources and generating abundance by forging relationships. But believing something and practicing one’s beliefs are two entirely different matters. I hate knocking on the doors of strangers. Upstate New York is a pretty conservative area. The cars outside the homes I must approach bear yellow ribbon magnets and jingoistic slogans. In an effort to blend in, our car is unadorned. But upon opening the doors, reusable shopping bags, apple cores, and stainless steel water bottles spill out on the ground around our barefooted family, belying our best efforts to conform to the norm. ...........(more)

The complete piece is at: http://www.yesmagazine.org/blogs/shannon-hayes/cider-pressing