a solitary apple
on a walk yesterday i happened across a lone apple desperately clinging to its tree in a small garden plot at the local Schrebergarten, or community garden.
the apple caught my eye because of its glimmer; in the dull, anemic light of winter it looked as if it had been fashioned out of gold or bronze and then strung up as an ornament on the spindly tree. but upon closer examination i realized that it was actually a real apple which had never loosened its grip and/or was neglected during the harvest when its sisters and brothers were being plucked. the skin of the apple was curled up and putrid in a few spots. i inched up closer to the fence, tiptoeing around heaps of ornamental grass to snap the best photo i could:
i am thinking about that apple today and wondering if it is still there, still clinging to its tenuous spot on the tree, or if it has surrendered to the rain and wind which is surely pummeling it by now (i can hear the storm from outside my window). or: perhaps eventually, after a long enough time, its petrifying skin will indeed harden into bronze?