the apple of my eye

Apples hold a special place in our culture.

Adam and Eve kicked it off and it's been going on ever since.

When the isolation of the people of St Kilda, way to the west of Scotland, was broken by Victorian visitors they were amazed by the gift of an apple. I guess if your diet is dominated by dried gannet and you've never seen any fruit before, you will be entitled to be amazed.
But I'm not isolated on an island miles from any other humans and yet I am still amazed when that time of year comes when the apples are ready to pick. I am amazed by the number of apples that each little cordon tree produces. This has been a bumper year for apples and now that they are in their sixth year they are in full production.

And there's the weight of each fruit in the hand. The ease of taking ripe fruit from the tree. The scent of fresh apples. And that wonderful sweet taste with just a hint of tartness. And the crunch.

Cordoned apples give more crunch per foot of stem than almost any other fruit. The method is highly recommended.

These are the first to be taken and I can't remember the variety because, once again, I've misplaced the labels.

Of all the things I grow, the apple takes the least effort and gives the most pleasure.