Each year I pack the kids in the mini-van, pick up a friend or two of theirs along the way, and head out to the orchards to do our annual apple picking. We always make our trek around the middle of October. Usually we get one of those crisp, autumn days when it's not too cold but we're finally thinking that we might put the shorts and tank tops away for good this season. The weather is perfect for jeans and a long sleeve shirt with a jacket thrown into the back just in case.
The main attraction, aside from the apple picking, is finding our way through the corn maze. We are given a list of trivia questions to serve as clues at the ten checkpoints we visit on our journey. Answer correctly and you're directed which way to go at the intersection.
Each of us takes a category -- sports, Halloween, corn facts -- I always ask forthe tiny tots questions. I'm pretty sure we'll answer correctly a question like, "Which animal moos? A dog, a pig, or a cow?" correct, a bit of reassurance that we'll make a correct turn and not remain perpetually held captive in the maze.
We work up an appetite in the corn maze so the next stop is to the general store where I like to pick up an apple pie and let each child choose a treat. It's the quintessential New England afternoon, one I capture with my digital camera. The pictures each year chronicle my children and their friends as they grow older and wiser but still find corn mazes goofy but fun.
This year I had a jolt of reality. Suddenly EVERYONE had decided that apple picking is as good if not better than a day at a Six Flags Theme Park. Tents were dotted all over the hill, creating a carnival scene. We stood in line to buy our tickets for the maze, THEN stood in line again to go inside the maze. Small crowds of people stood around each checkpoint. I didn't even need tiny tots to answer the questions -- if we wanted to we could just let ourselves get swept along with the other families, like riding out an undertow while swimming in the ocean.
The lines in the general store went all the way to the back. There was a sudden run on products like maple syrup, pies, and packaged s'mores on a stick. If it weren't for four children with their hearts set on an 85 cent treat from the penny candy bin, and my own craving for maple sugar candy (like my dad used to buy me at the orchard, back in the days when a crowd meant a dozen people) we would have left the building.
I thought about that scene in Baby Boom, where Diane Keaton's character is trying to sell her organic apple sauce at the general store. The couples from the city come in and start to buy jars in multiples because it's "from the country" and Keaton keeps jacking up the price as their enthusiasm grows. In the end she launches a major business, the couples have enough apple sauce to give away for three holiday seasons, and in the end it's all because of applesauce. 
We survived yet another apple picking adventure.Our annual trek was a welcome reprieve to the craziness of our daily lives. As we picked apples on the hill, I looked out over the valley below. There was still plenty of country left in these parts, even though a city was a mere half hour away either direction. The leaves were beginning to blaze into beautiful reds, oranges, and yellows. Rows of apple trees lined up for miles and the children ran up and down. It felt like they could run forever and never run out of apples or energy.
An apple a day has always been sound advice. An autumn trek to the orchards is still a worthy stop each October, although next time I may just order my pies on line.
