Because the calendar won't sit still, you fit the ritual in where you can. Yesterday, although fast and earlier than usual, I believe, we ventured to Mexico to pick another Autumn's fill of apples. Despite a gloomy week of rain and a forecast to match it, the day turned out wonderful: blue skies, nice sun, and a small crowd. It didn't hurt, either, that the apples were abundant and a little too easy to pick.
There's nothing more spectacular than having the back of your tongue cringe with the first bite of a sweet, New York apple. A colleague from my department went with us and on the drive up she sang southern spirituals, including "My eye is on the sparrow," and it gave great background music for the ride there and back.
The karma came from having the gospel of the seasons sung within my car.
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