Tuesday, October 12, 2010
When fall rolls around, I can't help but think about those Sunday family adventures out to Terrison's Apple Orchards in Cumberland. Mom and dad would pile us in that Chevy station wagon, and we'd fly off. Once there, it was an hour and a half of pure fun and excitement, finding the perfect tree with the most macs and trying to climb to the top. My brother and I climbing and tossing and my sisters catching and bagging them. We usually took home a bushel of macintosh, a peck or two of my favorite, golden delicious, and a jug of cider. The day wasn't complete, unless we caught a glimpse of old man Terrison in the shop and listened took him talk to Dad about how many gallons of cider he had pressed that morning. Ah, apple pickin' time. There was that allure and oh, that mouth watering aroma, just walking among the drooping-branched trees in the Terrison's orchard maze.