Chrysanthemum moon

Ten steps beyond my studio door stands an apple tree now heavy with fruit. From time to time an apple falls with a sound that intercepts the silence. I listen, anticipating the next drop, but it is clear that the process is random. Wasps circling in the last of summer breezes celebrate the sweet decay of windfalls as I consider what it is that signals the fruit to depart a tree. It’s the best distraction to come my way in a while.

The practice of beating a tree with a stick to harvest fruit was taken to task by a researcher in England in 1796 when he wrote that, “The criterion of a due degree of ripeness is that of the fruit’s falling spontaneously from the tree.” The author William Marshall went on to say in ‘The Rural Economy of Gloucestershire’ that, “Nature is the best judge of this crisis. No art has yet been discovered to mature unripe fruit in any way equal to nature’s process.” Further into the treatise, he answers the riddle; “Fruit in all human probability,” Marshall tells us, “does not quit the tree until it has received its full complement of nourishment.” Another apple tumbles to the ground and the bittersweet aroma of fermenting fruit in the air conjures a taste for apple cider.

“Idared, Brown Snout, Dabinett, Foxwhelp…are all valued species for making hard apple cider,” Grant Howes tells me as we wander the orchard at the County Cider Company in Waupoos. Howes, the Cider Master here, guides me to a patch of land where small trees huddle in tight rows. “This is our first-year nursery where we cultivate new stocks,” Grant tells me. “We have about 40 acres of apple trees with another 30 coming on stream. We also buy apples from farms that share our values,” he goes on to say.

The values Grant refers to are centred on a consciousness of the land. “I had an epiphany moment a number of years ago while in an orchard in Normandy, France. There you see apple and pear trees that are 300 years old…from the time of Napoleon that have never been sprayed. It changes your concept of what sustainability really is.” Taking responsibility for the impact on the earth underscores Howes’s approach to farming. We continue our walk as he points out bruises left on apples after a recent sudden hailstorm. “We’re not growing apples for cosmetic appeal to satisfy the super store market, we’re growing for cider…we don’t use any petro chemical sprays anymore. The harvesting is all done by hand and we leave enough for the birds because the birds eat insects.”

In the company of Abbey and Dudley, Grant’s two spunky black Labs, we stroll toward the two-year nursery where slender trees bend with crimson fruit. “Propagating trees over 15 years, we are now aware of which ones produce better than others. We bring in root stock and graft on the varieties including some heritage ones.” I learn that the County has inherited a number of apple species through history. The Harrison Cider apple and the Campfield, for example, both originated in Essex County, New Jersey before 1776. “The main body of apple cultivars comes from England,” Howes adds. “Grafting our own trees is rewarding, it offers a sense of continuation…some of these I planted with my brother who has passed away.”

We head to the tasting room located in a converted nineteenth century limestone pig barn. “The holy grail of cider apples, the Kingston Black…,” Howes points to a row of trees along the way. His attention quickly turns to the dogs. “Hey!” he calls to Dudley, “Leave it!” I watch in amazement as Dudley, ignoring Howes, reaches for an apple, waist high on a tree and taking it in his mouth, lies down in the tall grass to munch an afternoon snack. We sit on the patio and Howes offers me a glass of draft cider. “Making cider is about blending a mix of sweets, sharps and bitter sweets…apples don’t have the taste dimensions of grapes for wine,” he mentions. “The ratio determines the final taste with bitter sweets underpinning the blend.” Howes’s partner Jenifer Dean joins us as I sample the County Cider; “Bitterness is from tannin which in cider keeps the palate fresh,” Howes adds, “The limestone shelf we sit on gives the terroir a uniqueness that can’t be duplicated elsewhere.”

Jenifer tells me about County Cider’s recent leading awards for ice cider in international competitions in Britain as well as ‘Best in Show’ at the Great Lakes Cider Competition in the U.S. “An add-on to the awards is the fact that the ice cider was aged in a County-made barrel (the CHOA barrel from Carriage House Cooperage), a barrel crafted of mixed woods from our region.”

Time is easy, here on the ridge overlooking Prince Edward Bay. Sheep graze on nearby Waupoos Island while beyond, the thread of shoreline of Long Point melds into a gossamer sky. I sip and picture apples dropping one by one in the light of the Chrysanthemum moon as I toast the gods of the bounty of Indian summer.