End of the Line

It might seem odd to feature an image of apples, long associated with new beginnings (think Eden, even), in a post marking the end of something. In this case, unfortunately, those wonderful apples are the last of their kind. I'm not even sure what variety they might be, but because I know the people who rented a house on the land with the tree, I've had access to these for quite a few years. 

The parcel of land with the house has now been sold. Like so much of the land near here, what was once farmland has now been zoned industrial. Sigh. But back to the apples.

Not great for in-the-hand eating, but wonderful for pies or applesauce or, as I mostly do, dehydrating. Odd perhaps, but I no longer use an actual dehydrator, as I've discovered that the pilot light on our gas fireplace makes for just the right temp to slowly dry the fruit. 

Little bags of dried apples will find their way into gift packs at Christmas, though I guess for next year, I'll have to find some other old-timey apple tree that will serve me with a supply of windfall fruit. And hoping for sure, with all the strife currently raging in the world, that this holiday season won't be the end of the line for everyone.