Windfalls(3)

Thirty years ago when the apple trees were heavy with not-quite-yet-ripe apples, my father-in-law would let me gather fallen apples from his orchard to make windfall apple juice. Any apples on the tree were off-limits as they were used strictly for winter eating. (Except, the green Yellow Delicious apples I managed to steal when he wasn’t looking.) (Stolen Apple Pie can’t be made any other way.)

At the time my husband and I were struggling just to make ends meet with three little children, a rough economy and my husband’s unsecure job. A stay-at-home mom, I did whatever I could to help out. I sewed, gardened, clipped coupons and of course, canned everything. No one else wanted to bother with the fallen apples. For me, the windfall apple juice was a gift. A mix of several kinds of apples, the juice was sweet, yet tart. And as an added bonus it turned out a crisp champagne-pink color. The rows of glistening jars tucked along the shelves of my fruit room glinted like pink sapphires. Perfect.

Windfalls…

After the wet, sloopy snow yesterday, break-out sunshine today dripped along the canal ridge above my house like overflowing rain gutters. Incessant. A reminder that spring is just around the corner.

Windfalls…

Glancing over my shoulder on my two -mile walk this morning, I caught a pair of red fox shadowing me and my dog, L.E. I kept walking, certain the two would cross the road and make for cover, but as I reached the end of the trail and turned back, they were still following me and only loped away as I started back toward them.


On the road back, a tree, stark branches limned by sun-melt snow fanned the morning glory blue sky, more charcoal sketch than real.

A windfall…

They’re all around us. Often we dismiss them. We don’t value them. We miss them by not paying attention. As writers we cannot afford this. We need to notice every gift, good or bad, big or small.

My challenge is: pay attention. Make a list. Appreciate and describe the windfalls that make you smile, make you frown, fill you with peace, churn your emotions. Write them down in your journal; take notes describing the things you notice. Take into your mind and heart all these gifts. They are the footprint of your work. They are your first draft.