Greenbluff gems

It isn't truly fall until you've made that 30 minute drive north, forgotten which road on which to turn, and stumbled upon your favorite farms at Greenbluff. Ever since my first fall in Spokane, I've come up here, flirted with the idea of picking apples, and then, like this bee, decided that all I really want is a little nibble.

 

And then I think about how cool it would have been to have grown up on an orchard, having all those trees to myself, and being free to just mozey around and look to see which apples are ripe, then pick one and walk back home, chomping on it.

 

And it also makes me think of the purpose of gourds. What the heck are these things for? You don't really eat them, you just kind of stare at them, make a comment about how gnarly and weird they are, "ooh, no wait, look at THIS one!", and then buy a few to stick in a basket on a table, until it's winter, and squash doesn't seem so novel anymore.

 

But as long as you're at Greenbluff, calories definitely don't count, there's no such thing as an apple overdose, and you wonder how anyone could ever work behind a counter and stare at these things all day, letting them glisten and watching customers' mouths water (like mine) over the sheer genius that is complex sugars enveloped by polymerized confection.