specimen in the kitchen garden
no. 07 · tr-coll.
twisted, low to the ground, three apples in a good year and none in a poor one. the variety is "house" — that is, no one remembers what it was. someone, generations back, ate an apple and threw the core into a corner of the garden and forgot. this tree is what the corner did with it.
the apples are sharp, mealy, occasionally astonishing. one in a hundred is the apple of the year. the rest go into tart, into jam, or to the wasps. there is a small bench beneath, three slats wide, on which it is possible to read for an hour without anybody finding you.
connected to the slow business of the kitchen, the back step, the bowl on the kitchen table. unconnected, as far as anyone can tell, to anything urgent.
field note — i held an apple in my hand and forgot i was holding it. it was warm with my warmth when i remembered, and i was sorry to bite into it.