How Do You Like Them Apples?

The highlight of a fine weekend spent half at the beach and half in the mountains was harvesting the apple tree that M’s parents “rented,” from an orchard not far from their house. The orchard, like their house, is located at the foot of the Northern Japan Alps, and we could see snow clouds in the upper peaks above us. But it was a very warm day, and we ended up in our shirt sleeves. The orchard people said it was good that M’s folks had rented one of the trees close to the farm house: the ones further up the slope are often targeted by hungry monkeys and bears. This tree had been targeted by hungry birds—but only a few by the look of it. I don’t think there were more than twenty or so damaged apples.

Some of the apples were as big as little m’s head, and she had a hard time getting her mouth open far enough to bite into one. With the four of us taking our time picking (twist, twist again, pull up), we had the tree bare in thirty or forty minutes, and while we didn’t count them, I’m guessing there were at least 350 apples from that one unassuming tree. Another family, who was picking further down the slope, said they got over 700 from their tree, a large, very old one with stanchions holding up branches that spread ten meters and more from the trunk.

I drove the car up a deep rutted track to the tree so we could load the boxes. I had no idea that apples could weigh so much. The car sank so low on the axles that I had to drive back down to the road with the left tires way up on the inclined side of the road. All the pickers stopped what they were doing to watch, wondering if we were going to topple over, but little m, riding shotgun, thought it was awesome. She wanted me to keep doing it, even after we got down to the paved road.

I don’t know what M’s parents are going to do with all those apples, though they make great gifts. They’re organic Fuji apples, which must be the best apples in the world, and when you snap your fingernails against them they give off a great “thock” sound, like you're hitting a bongo. They gave us one whole box, so you won’t see any doctors around our house for a while.