Ken

I have a little snapshot in the album of my memory of a carefree fall Saturday morning. I’m about ten years old. I’m in Levi’s and a stripped tee-shirt with a red wool ball cap. I’m sitting on the front steps warmed with sunlight. The sky is bright blue and clear. Overhead maples flame with color and wave their branches out over the road. I’m eating a Jonathan apple. Dad is working on the old black Studebaker that he bought from an elderly man in Bellefontaine for fifty dollars. The car radio is tuned to a big-ten football game. The Buckeyes are running up the score against one of their lesser opponents. It must not have been the Michigan game – probably Northwestern, Minnesota, or Indiana. I finish my apple and toss the core across the road into Jew Knights yard when no one is looking. [Read more…] about Apples on an Autumn Afternoon