When I was a kid...

my whole world was only a couple of acres big. Most of my neighbors were my closest relatives. We lived on our great-grandfathers farm. Our house was in the middle of an apple orchard. Oh, how I loved those trees! All decked out with a profusion of blossoms in the spring, that smelled like nothing else in the world. The trees hummed with the busy little bees gathering nectar and spreading pollen. The lovely shade in the summer, and fabulous limbs for climbing and swinging from. In fall there were sooo many apples! And again the humming, but this time it was yellow jackets buzzing around windfall apples, so ripe they squished between your toes. Cider, apple pies. Mmmmm.

Just a little reminder that things were pretty great in the early 50s.