I took this picture, because I liked the sight of an apple sitting atop a granite post. The fall season for me is marked not by the colorful foliage around New England. It's bright and extends all over, and not by lines of buses, loaded with 'leaf peepers' heading to parts north and south. There are plenty too that pile off the cruise ships docked on Commercial Street and head out in all directions to view the colorful sights. No, for me autumn is and always has been the red, green or yellow fruit, in all its crisp, tart, tangy glory. In language, I enjoy the idiom. I do believe I was the 'apple of someone's eye', probably Mom's. She liked most everything, even wet dogs. And yes, I know this baffles you tremendously, but my 6th grade teacher, Sister Mary Joanne, who I had some serious issues with, once called me the 'rotten apple' in the class, after she claimed I was the lead instigator of the infamous April Fool's Day caper in her classroom. I might plead the 5th on that one. Yes, the delicious fruit was what drew me to the photo. However, now that I step back. Mailboxes. My Dad delivered mail in Portland for over 35 years. Newspaper slots below. I delivered the Portland Press Herald and the now defunct Portland Evening Express from age 11-17. Was I thinking those things when I aimed my camera? Perhaps in my subconscious. What's your favorite apple treat? Mine is pie, pure and simple. Next question.