There is an apple in my palm.
There are ants on the apple
and bruises on the skin. I brush off the dirt gathered after its fall, its
settling on the forest floor. The ants and mites abandon ship and search for
other fallen apples among the crunchy leaves.
White teeth through green flesh into another sweet whiteness
with which my mouth cannot compete. I chew, I smile, I scrunch my eyes at the mingling of tart and sugary deliciousness. My fingernails excavate caves of brown and pick at speckles
of black across the otherwise smooth surface. I watch a lone mite crawl on the stem and jump off.
I was hungry.
Not a starving hunger, just a little nibble of
a nag, a grumble of intentions south of those (my) lungs gulping fresh air. I
had one of those protein bars in my little black bag, next to my water bottle,
nestling against my notebook. But I didn’t want a chewy bite of soy that looks
nothing like a soybean. I didn’t want that sweetness that sticks to the top of
my tongue but doesn’t infuse my whole mouth with luscious thoughts of rain and
golden afternoon sun. I didn’t want a square instead of a curved or jagged or root-haired morsel.
I don’t know why I looked up when I did. Maybe it was the
smell of cider mingling with damp leaves in the clearing of this narrow valley.
I looked up and saw globes of green hanging from haggard brown branches.
I
thought about climbing.
I thought about throwing rocks.
I thought about
grabbing and shake shake shaking until orbs of tart came raining down on my
head.
Taking action, right?
My eyes pulled down to the earth I breathed in the stillness and
birdcalls and slight rumble of a deer trampling down saplings, creating mulchy
compost underfoot. Apples were everywhere. I picked up several, gazed into smooshy
tan, returned them to the ground. The ants were five steps ahead and
devoured flesh and innards alike of the decomposing fruits. Sharing.
I found her: only slightly bruised, minutely
gnawed, and totally perfect. For me.
There is an apple in my palm.
I wasn’t expecting there to be
at the beginning of my walk through the woods. I was hungry but I waited for something real. I didn’t really wait, I just walked forward into the shadows
and breeze and let my gut speak to the trees. I trusted I would not starve and
the universe provided, surprised me.
This apple makes me happier than anything right now. I trust it will all come to me as I open up my hand, open up my eyes,
look up and ground down. Find the bounty surrounding me, not perfect aesthetically, but perfect in this moment to nourish me among my grumbles and sighs.
I take another bite and savor each step into this trust, this process, this devouring of luscious life.
