I love apple picking on an overcast morning where the fog is rolling off the mountaintop, the hint of rain is in the air. It feels like fall, and it's cozy. It just brings my heart so much joy. More joy is that this tradition husband and I decided to start during our first year of marriage, has really turned into a true family tradition for the Hills. Every September since 2014, we've found ourselves in the orchard picking our bounty of apples to bring home and eat or turn into desserts. We've added one child to share the tradition with and then a second child. Greer's now been apple-picking three times, and Quinn just went for her first time. I can't believe this tradition we created as newlyweds has held on strong, and I hope it gets passed down as the years go on.
This year, we were greeted by that thick fog I love so much as we pulled into the orchard. There was the unexpected surprise of mud, lots and lots of mud. And because the rows of apple trees are on a slope, it was so slippery and a bit difficult to pick apples with a toddler, who decided midway through, she was scared of the mud and a baby on my chest who wasn't happy to be worn. That's one thing we're learning as parents, our expectations have to be flexible and we make the best of what happens. Because even though we ended up with some mud on us and just a little bit of time actually picking apples, we still had the best time. We took our apple loot, picked apples out of the orchard's bins, grabbed some pumpkins, drank apple cider slushes (my favorite), and had lunch under the lights while the mist spit all around us. It was magical even when it wasn't like we had imagined it. And I'm already looking forward to next year's visit.
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