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By Bridget Squires

Copyright 2010

The apple orchard I visit has become a forgotten treasure, one that suffered when popularity shifted to video games and reality television shows rather than wholesome family time. A large, pumpkin orange barrier, pointless due to the lack of a proper road to begin with, was erected and had become overgrown were nature claimed her land back from the selfish humanity that had pilfered it decades ago. The trail to this sacred spot is long and jagged, like a scar of space in the Earth where trees were dissipated from the area. The orchard itself is a wonder in its own right. Twisted, gnarled apple trees, limbs spreading wildly from years of missed pruning’s, spread littered throughout the field. Tall, golden green grass completed the scenic beauty Mother Nature had created from a few simple apple seeds, skittle candy colored wildflowers blooming sporadically, dancing to and fro in the gentle breeze. The summers blistering heat showering down onto this, my sanctuary from civilization, like it were heavens new developed Eden.

In the middle of the field, where a small clearing opens up, holds a stone constructed well. The aged, granite colored rocks stacked carefully into the circular marvel was topped by an old, thick wooden arch. A makeshift lever and steel bucket attached by worn rope, adorned the arch allowing water to be withdrawn from the Earth's deep bowels but this well had dried up much like the orchards popularity years ago. The green, soft, squishy moss covered rocks gave the well the appropriate aged look of simpler times, when this contraption was a savior for those seeking water to quench the thirst apple picking may inspire or even to provide nourishment to the lively trees as well. Next to the picturesque well sat a red wooden lounge chair with matching table starkingly bright compared to the subtle tones of the field. This had become a little quiet piece of heaven for me. Yet while this place may seem idealistic to those who neglected to understand it secrets, this place was far from holy to anyone but myself.

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