Washing Day

But not today. This has been a day of rain - another one, but not a bad thing in this part of the country, as it tempers the drying heat of the frequent Nor' West wind. However, on a sunny day, earlier this week, in a still moment between gale-force gusts, I noticed that the first apples were ripening along the veranda cordon. Ripening as red as Elwin's shirt, which our daughters have claimed between them. Bryony snaps up anything worn and shredded to re-construct and wear with panache (my favourite look of hers combines my old school PE rompers worn with a black waistcoat and a threadbare tee shirt depicting traction engines and steam trains).
I can remember the day Elwin bought this red shirt: I watched him walk along Worcester Street between Christchurch Cathedral and Canterbury Museum, bright as a Discovery apple, dressed as the new musician for Amanita Muscaria, a ladies' Morris dancing side. And because those days were also our first courting days, I realise that this shirt has out-lasted all our years together, just a little thin at collar and cuffs.

Early ripening apple  Malus domesticus 'Discovery'