Behold the bounty!
My friend and I headed upstate yesterday with a tank full of gas and a dream—a dream of picking bushels of our own fruit at someone else’s farm.
It started out an idyllic morning, walking around with our baskets, marveling at the autumn scenery, picking apple after juicy apple.
But then we entered a dark, shadowy part of the orchard. The trees in this ominous-looking corner of the farm did not want to relinquish their precious fruit. At first I thought I was imagining things. There would be a shimmy or a shake of branches that would leave a red apple just out of reach. No matter, I thought, I’ll just pick a different one. There was another shimmy. Another shake.
And then it happened: A tree threw an apple right at my head. The tree next to it, equally as peeved, did the same. Before we knew it, we were in the throws of a full-on apple tree assault. Apples were flying everywhere. We ducked and weaved, dodging the fruity fastballs coming our way, and, in seeking shelter from the onslaught, we came across a tin foot...attached to a tin leg…
Oh, wait. That’s The Wizard of Oz.