Fall's last hurrah

I saved out one last russet apple from the fall and ate it today, the last of June.

The apple was yielding in my hand, and its skin was wrinkled and smelled mossy. It looked like a little rotting pumpkin.

But the flesh was sound and the flavors were wonderfully sweet, wildly concentrated pear and honey like ice wine after the freeze.

What had seemed an unpromising idea for a blog post (written to you, dear reader) turned out to be, like so much else, a surprise and a treat.