We’ve got this big old apple tree right in the middle
of the horse turnout field. While the apples aren’t sweet enough
for human enjoyment, the horses are so addicted to those apples
you’d think they were laced with crack.
This tree I refer to is hollow, by the way.
…and yet it produces 100’s of apples.
In early fall the apples drop to the ground over night
and yours truly has to go out with the gator and pick them up before the horses
can be turned out to graze.
As is true most often, too much of a good thing can be bad.
While I’m out there picking apples, Opie, Max, Coady and Lacey
finish their grain and then watch impatiently.
Opie kicks at the door for good measure repeatedly..
with this look on his face.
Hey, Ma! LEAVE A FEW!
I let them out once I’m done collecting, and they race down the little hill to the apple tree
to scarf down the few that remain.
Opie never forgets that there are 100 or so in the back of the gator
because he just watched me toss them in.
He returns after eating what I left for him under the tree..
to see if he can steal a few more.
Much to his chagrin, they’re now covered in crap.
