As soon as that fall feeling is in the air, I start to think about apples. It’s one of my most favorite fall activities, and somehow, if we were to miss it, things just wouldn’t feel quite right to me. Ben and I and the boys usually go on a weekend morning, do our share of picking, maybe go on a horse-drawn wagon ride if that’s an option, and then hopefully pass out–at least for one tiny moment–in the grass in the warm sun in a cider-doughnut coma. This year apples have been remarkably early, so we’ve been picking twice so far, actually. We decided to try out some orchards new to us–first we went to McDougal orchards in Springvale, and just the other day to Orchard Hill Farm in Cumberland. We were pleasantly surprised at both places in terms of how many different apple varieties were available. Having been accustomed to the limited selections (i.e. Macs and Cortlands) at most pick-your-own places around here offer, finding such relative variety (Granny Smith! Fugi! Honeycrisp!) at these other orchards was really a treat. And for Connor and Ian? Getting to use those apple-picker poles with the metal grabber baskets (whatever they’re really called I’m not sure) was, I think, the highlight of their days.