I've taken to removing the windfallen apples to a place of rest, where the woodlice and earwigs can gorge their fill without being tempted to attack those still on the tree. It now resembles a family crypt, with apples in various states of decomposition. The table smells of cider.


(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-14 07:13 pm (UTC)Nine
(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-15 04:57 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-08-15 05:06 pm (UTC)