Barton Orchard Experience
A smooth trip to Barton Orchard in Poughquag, NY—until the last 2 miles. A long, stop-and-go line of traffic behind an inspecting sheriff at a T-junction stalls our progress before our last turn.
Summer-esque heat white-knuckling the wheel
Paul lumbers more than walks. Like one of the Dwarves from the film “the Hobbit.” Mira recognizes him first.
Meeting our friends … a full bag of popcorn
An acoustic band plays from a gazebo. An electric band plays on a bandstand. Several country store buildings and “kitchens,” a playground, Dutch racetrack and “mining”: the place is more permanent country fair than Orchard.
Dusty path fifteen-dollar apple bags
We separate seconds after entering the first row. I end up with the Gs.
Bitter-sweet apple … somewhere, a boy up a tree
We reunite with the others. Chris imbibes stats on a football game. Later, while walking down another row, Kathleen vents about Paul’s ex. Their apples picked, all save for the Gs and Mira ride the haycart shuttle back to the “market.”
Morgan’s pumpkin … the tractor slow stop
The western sun in our eyes. The kids disappear in the playground. Chris and I talk and laugh before Millie arrives, empty-handed. Mira and the Gs return. Confiscating a picnic table, we sit, chat, check FB and photos.
By late afternoon, we all prepare to leave.
Frankie running with the G’s gift … cooling off
Daylight fading. We see the taillights stretch out of sight south of Newburg, almost to Suffern.
Nightfall grilling a sirloin by flashlight