Sucky Day = Happy Blog Post

Hey-
I had a pretty much 95% Suck Day today, and ranting about it will bore you and make me more frustrated. To save both of us a crappy evening, I'm showing y'all something special that brings back happy memories. Enjoy :-)

I am at the apple orchard, my favorite place during fall. Vibrant colored leaves twirl around my best friend and I as we make weird faces at each other and run through trees that look like their foliage is on fire with the blazing hues. Our small plastic bags are filling up with apples rapidly, but we still haven’t found “the perfect one”. We find beautiful ones, only to examine the other side and find that it is bruised or rotting.
At last, we find a seemingly flawless apple, though it is high up on a tree. Since I am quite short, and she is a bit taller, I spring onto her back without warning. She hoists me up and I stretch out my hand to grab the apple. I barely graze my fingers over it when it dances down from the tree and perches on the ground. I pick it up and my eyes widen.
The apple is deep red with the perfect tinge of green, a tiny stem poking its head out. Beautifully faint lines are running down the skin. We are taken aback by the beauty of such a simple fruit as we admire it. It’s just an apple, after all, but we both sense that apples are no ordinary thing, especially during the magical season of fall.
I take another look at the immaculate apple and rub it on my sweater until it’s shiny and the cool blue sky is almost reflected on the apple’s skin. I hesitate to bite into it because it is so perfect. When I will myself to, though, my nose scrunches with delight. I shove it at my friend and she takes a bite from the other side. With the autumn wind nipping at her rosy cheeks and her hair blowing around, her eyes light up with delight when she tastes the apple. We agree that it’s the perfect mix of sweet and tart, and it’s nice and crunchy (the way we like it).
We lay on our backs in the yellowing grass under the trees and finish the apple. This, I think, is perfection.