Running, Fallen Apples and Childhood Memories

By August 11, 2016 Musings

Running, Fallen Apples and Childhood Memories

On a particular part of the trail where I run there’s a section that’s strewn with small green apples, fallen from an old beautiful tree.

When the sun has baked them with its rays the scent they emit takes me back to my childhood.

The fragrance brings a smile to my face and is intoxicating, especially when there’s a breeze that carries the scent along as I run.

As I sidestep through them I think of days past when our neighbour’s yard would be littered with fallen apples and plums.

I’d hike myself up on our wobbly fence and walk along the narrow top board, pretending to be an Olympian on the balance beam.

With carefully guarded steps I’d travel a short distance, then jump down on the neighbour’s lawn to see if any of the fruit was still good enough to eat.

The green apples always gave me a stomach ache, but I ate them nonetheless. And the plums? My neighbourhood pals and I had much more fun pitching them at one another during the cool summer evenings of our youth, then tumbling on the ground before starting a game of hide-and-go-seek that lasted until the street lights came on.

I smile at the thought, and continue my run, carried along by fallen apples and childhood memories.

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