Bridge between the mundane and the sacred

On Hazel Way, the entrance to our neighborhood symbolized stepping through the stem of an apple, circling into an oblong-shaped community tucked within LaGrange, GA. Growing up there in the 80s, we roamed the streets and climbed the trees of this civilized pocket that brought together families of diverse backgrounds. Many of those trees bore fruit, plenty enough that the neighborhood kids and the local wildlife kept most of it from ever rotting on the branch or ground. To us, this was sacred territory: a shared orchard of belonging, a rite of passage from innocence to adolescence.

Now (present day), as the Fall Equinox layers upon us, the season of harvest, the shift from heat to hearth, I run through the subdivisions of my community in Lynnwood, WA.  I notice fruit trees scattered along the edges of yards, their fallen offerings fermenting in the grass, consumed by insects or discovered by a lucky dog. In another era, these apples would never have gone to waste. For generations, apples were transformed, more often into hard cider than into food, a simple yet profound alchemy of abundance. Food as medicine, as elixir, and sometimes as vinegar carrying the mother of immunity. Things are different in this time and in this place.  Kids roaming the streets are rare, and even more so is any balance between human activity and the co-existence of wildlife. A bounty to feed us all with little interest in sharing a seat at the table.

How far the apple has traveled: from forbidden fruit, heavy with the stigma of temptation, to a global symbol of innovation and entertainment. The tree of knowledge bore seeds of awareness, seeding stories of guilt, shame, and blame woven into human history. Yet today we continue to crave its promise, each new release inviting us to slip into the unconscious realm of a poisoned society. Each purchase offers a fleeting release of shame, but access to this “digital delight” is itself a privilege and those excluded remain barred from the garden of its proprietary knowledge and pleasure.

The Romani people refer to apple cores as Stars of Knowledge, and some consider the 5 chambers that hold the seeds a reflection of the elements that shape our world. In Celtic lore, the apple is a portal to the Otherworld, its wood carved into wands said to bridge dimensions. Yet another wonder lies hidden deeper in its seeds: each one is genetically unique, destined to become an apple unlike its parent. An example of natural selection crafted beyond the veil of scientific logic. Grafting became the surest path to propagate the beloved varietals that fill our pies and quench our thirst. Without this method, we would have much more diversity but would face the challenge of continuous culinary creativity. As for tales, Johnny Appleseed, contrary to his popular image, was closer to a planter of cider orchards than a grower of table fruit. 

The phrase “apple of your eye” reminds us that meaning is always in the beholder. The apple itself, laying in the palm of our hand, the potential for possibility, invites us to choose our portal: down the poisoned road of probability, or toward one of infinite possibilities. A future we would gladly raise a glass to in good health.

“Wherever the apple tree goes, its offspring propose so many different variations on what it means to be an apple — at least five per apple, several thousand per tree — that a couple of these novelties are almost bound to have whatever qualities it takes to prosper in the tree’s adopted home.” — Michael Pollan (via Botany of Desire)