I went to sleep last night thinking about that apple tree from the first post, and how a few days after I took that picture, I turned onto my road at the same time a woman on a bicycle was starting her journey down the trail. My road has 4 residents on it and turns into a nature trail, so it’s not well maintained by the city. It’s rough and you have to drive very slow. So I saw the whole thing: She noticed the little apple tree and stopped, straddled her bike, looked up, and began yanking down on a limb, apparently trying to drop an apple. And one did drop, fast, right on her head, right in front of me. (May that be the only time her helmet will be called on to do its job.)
I kept driving by, but I wanted to stop, get out of my car and have an intimate conversation with her about how much that sucked. It was a beautiful day and she had this vision of eating a wild apple from a rogue tree as she rode her bike down the nature trail around the lake, and instead she nearly knocked herself out in front of a stranger. Not only that, she had to pick the smashed apple up off the road and pretend she wanted it after it bounced off her helmet and hit the ground. When she bit into it a bit later, she surely discovered that it was bitter and wormy.
I wanted to say, omg I know! Why does exuberance and spontaneity always end in tears and shame. Why? When does it not? Never does it not. Never. You get this delicious idea in your head, and you can pretty much guarantee it will end up with you knocking yourself out with a macintosh in broad daylight in front of a stranger. We could have laughed together.
My wish is that she laughed her head off and has told the story a hundred times since, making all her friends laugh along with her. It could have been a fleeting apple, but instead it is an excellent story she can tell over and over again. I hope.
Ilse Thompson 