Cider...

            Well, fall is in full bloom. The harvest before the long winter. (Though I have a feeling that winter isn't too far off, as the distant mountains are already snow-topped.) What deciduous trees do lie in eyesight; have let loose their leaves to transform into that of bright oranges, yellows, and ambers. This is undoubtedly my favorite time of year. I love the colors and the moods that the short days take on during this time of the year. I love the festivity. The smell of the air before a downpour of rain. The need for sweaters, scarves, and hats to keep warm. And I certainly love the many, tasty things that are associated with the fall. Things like Pumpkin Spice Lattes, Pumpkin Pie, Apple Cider, and Candy Corn. This also happens to be open season for deer hunting. My dad is a hunter, and he passed the intrigue of the hunt down to me. For me, hunting is more about the company I get to keep and the time I get to spend out in creation than really actually bringing down an animal. 
            It’s been raining a lot more as of recently. So on Saturday, when my brother and I, along with several friends, hiked off for a few hours to hunt wild game, we ended up kind of wet. Half the party returned to their homes to warm up, while the other half of us spent the more dry part of the morning hiking around. No deer were spotted by a single one of us, nonetheless it was an enjoyable enough morning.

After our hike was concluded, my dear brother and I hitched a ride with our friend back to where our other hunting companions had returned to. We chatted with their family a bit, had some coffee, began to warm up…

… And then one of their numbers decided, since she had three extra strong sets of hands, that it was high-time they got around to that cider-pressing chore they had been putting off for a week or so. Of course, my brother and I were more than delighted to help out. (I love me some cider… it’s an unhealthy yearning for that golden liquid of deliciousness.) We got right to work, and in a couple hours, all the apples had been sliced, mashed, and pressed into fresh cider. I was the one graced with the job of turning the press, perhaps the most strenuous job.  Of course, like a donkey pulling a cart while its master dangles a carrot before its nose, I was coaxed on to the final product. (Did I mention that I love me some cider? ‘Cause… well, I like totally, do.)

Oh… and… oh… The final product? Not can compare. We speak of a liquid gold, which was no less than absolutely divine. It was like sipping at sunshine on a chilly day. Fantastic stuff.

Roll out the barrel of fun, Chaps! Good-O!