Apple Pickin' 2013 : Return Like a Sacrament

And there are other places which,
although we did not stay for long,
stick in the mind and call us back—
a valley visited one spring
where walking through an apple orchard
we breathed its blossoms with the air.
Return seems like a sacrament. - Dana Gioia

It was time for our annual orchard picnic, a day that began gray then ended golden.  The earth mudluscious from days of rain.  Joined by friends old and new.  Joined by honeybees stealing sips of our hot cider.  Tearing chunks from a perfect loaf, warm and fresh from the orchard oven then dipping it into the soup that I made the night before.  The dessert of crisp donuts.  The vinegary scent of fallen apples.  Boys climbing and running and cajoling the way they do.  Everywhere trees make offerings,
branches extended like welcoming arms.