The temperature has been steadily dropping over these last days of autumn, and today the mercury didn't reach double figures, languishing around the eight degree mark. With winter on the doorstep, it's perfect weather for curling up in front of the fire. But the lure of one last fruit picking adventure was too hard to resist. Especially one as clandestine as scrumping, that is fruit looting, or ahem, stealing apples off the trees without permission from the owner.
Up into the hills and along an old dirt road stands an overgrown abandoned apple orchard. There were hundreds of kilos of apples rotting on the ground, with plenty more still stubbornly clinging to the gnarly, moss covered trees. Despite the steep hills, thick grass and lots of brambles we had to battle to get in there, the prize of biting into those cold apples in that fresh mountain air was utterly delightful.
We picked at least 20 kilos of granny smith's and tiny golden delicious, and would have picked more if we could reach the higher apples. We hauled our heavy baskets back down the road, whilst we stuffed our faces with crunchy sweet apples.
Tomorrow I'll make apple sauce, apple jelly and apple butter with the loot.
Apple scrumping, stealing perhaps, but a late autumn activity of the very best kind.