The woods around the head of the marsh were full of purple vistas, threaded with gossamers. Yes, a veritable apple-bearing apple tree, too, here in the very midst of pines and beeches, a mile away from any orchard. I was here one day last spring and found it, all white with blossom. So I resolved I'd come again in the fall and see if it had been apples. See, it's loaded.
Most wild seedlings are green and uninviting.
Here's a fallen tree with a cushion of moss. I'll climb for some apples. The apples proved to be delicious. But it's time we were going home. What a pity we couldn't have caught the moment of transformation.