I’ve lived in New York for four years now, and this much I know is true: the reason people stay here is because they know fall is coming…Seriously: who would put up with winter or summer if they didn’t know fall was on the way?
(Italics = Mother Nature whispering about the weather.)
In LA, the only sign of the seasons was the changing color of Starbucks cups. And girls who are really into fashion start to wear gloves in January.
But here, the seasons are so distinct that they feel like different events to which we are all invited. Like college RAs, who coordinate activities for the dorm that is “New York.” (Of course, this analogy does not work if you went to a college where RAs were paid to tattle on you.)
And fall is the great party planner who gets us to go apple picking and cider making and looking-at-leaves.
This weekend, I had the good fortune to go to my friend’s cabin on the lake. She’s one of those incredibly energetic people who inspires everyone around her to do things, simply because if you don’t get off your lazy behind to run/hike/walk/cook/do something, you feel like you’re wasting your life. Which, compared to her, you probably are.
This time she took me on a
forced march hike [see picture above] and I swear I’ve improved. This time I wasn’t wheezing and telling everyone I probably have asthma.
And this time, she got apples so that a group of us could make apple cider.
HOW COOL IS THAT?!
It felt so cute and seasonal. And now that I’ve been invited to a real apple picking, I feel like I’m truly “in” with the East Coast.
Mostly I watched and took pictures while other people worked. But I got the gist!
We [they?] used this apple press.
We poured the juice from the crushed apples into these bottles, though a filter.
We used cheesecloth to catch debris that had fallen into the juice.
In the morning, Eric made cider donuts.