Granny Smith apples are unusual in being green when ripe.
— Photo by Assianir
“Cider served in pounded copper mugs.
Covered bridge rides.
Pumpkin pies.
Tourists in Vermont. What do they want?
Where to find Granny Smith?
She waits for you in my tree. Bring your camera, you'll see.’’
—From “Smell the Season Sunshine,’’ by Marikate Kingston, a poet who lives in Westport, Conn.
