Wednesday, 22 October 2008

Up the road, afternoon.

Mounds and sacks of apples collected for cider in the small orchard at Bel Orient fill the air with perfume. A brown hen blackbird bobs away from them quickly, exclaiming.

4 comments:

Plutarch said...

The full stop at the end of your post, prevents the blackbird from exclaiming "posted by Lucy at 8.19", which, in strange way, strikes me as a possibility if only a remote one.

Crafty Green Poet said...

nicely dramatic!

Bee said...

I can never get tired of apples! I made an apple and blackberry crumble today -- with the last of the blackberries, I'm sure, but at least the apples will go on!

Does cider always mean alcoholic cider in France? Do you remember, from your Penn relatives, that American cider is more of an apple juice -- just richer, and more fermented?

Lucy said...

Thanks!

Bee - I don't remember Pennsylvania cider, I'm not quite sure what they drank... beer for the blokes, perhaps, and lots of coffee. The shop-bought cidre doux here is rather like that I think, only about 2 or 3% alcohol and very sweet and apply. I think the farm-made stuff is generally a bit rougher and stronger!

Actually, I suddenly remember dropping a big flagon of some American ciderish stuff on a supermarket floor when I was there, and not having to pay for it! Yes, it was something between cider and apple juice, and quite red in colour...