Today I’m blending the pictures and poetry of our trip with to the orchard with the Burden Family into a prayer for autumn. All photos compliments of my lovely and dear friend Jillian Burden.
Like any good Michigander, I can measure my years by trips to the apple orchard.
I can still remember with vivd clarity my kindergarden trip to the pumpkin patch and cider mill. After wandering the fields of orange and green we were rewarded by a warm donut and fresh pressed cider as we squeezed together on the picnic tables.
There is nothing in the world like a cake donut with fresh pressed cider, If you love it, you know it’s a comfort food born early.
Trips to the orchard ring altogether wholesome, holding hands while crunching apples and leaves as you fill heap your wagon full of fruit.
I adore everything about the U-pick experience, I believe in staying connected to our food, in understanding how it grows and where it comes from. I want my children to be involved in the nourishment of our family and meet the farmer as he drives by on his tractor. (although, in this case he was yelling as us for wandering into the “not yet ready” honey-crisp orchard. Those things are celebrity up here.)
Wandering together among the apple trees is one of the most grounding things I can do right now. It’s a practice steeped in tradition, and every piece of fruit that found it’s way into our wagon this week served echoed a prayer of “give us this day our daily bread.”
I keep going back to this prayer over and over this week, which is ironic because our family gave up bread in January.
But this cry has roots that go far deeper than bread, it’s about reliance, patience, staying close to the Father.
You’ll never see the whole of provision, you have to give thanks bit by bit, moment by moment, apple by apple.
On days where “making it” feels like a long shot I’m learning that looking at the big picture can actually overwhelm you to your breaking point. Normally perspective is helpful, but sometimes I need to be just exactly right where I am and no further. If I think too big, scale back too far my anxiety prone heart starts to falter.
When the kids and I are running late for school and I know you’re going to be “the last mom” again, I start to hyperventilate if I think about the clock and the overall idea of arriving at school.
I need to think about it sock by sock, clean tooth by clean tooth, carseat click by carseat click.
Maybe we need to stop fretting the clock and the calendar, some journeys contain so many steps that the big picture crumples you and sends your hyperventilating heart for the safety of it’s paper bag.
Just gather apples and give thanks for their crunch and sweetness, savor the moments that feel lighter and use them as fuel for the ones that leave you weary. We are given our daily bread, just enough for the season we’re in.
I need to rest in this. Deeply and Desperately.
Autumn is here, and It finds me tender and raw and easily overwhelmed. So I’m taking it apple by apple, care to join me?