Where oh where can the apples be?

It is the middle of the northern hemisphere winter.

The time of death.

The time of life hidden.

Yet when I look at these mature apple trees, smiles of hope well up inside me.

My imagination sees apple blossoms;

Smells apple blossoms;

Tastes apples off the tree;

Tastes apple pies;

Tastes apfelcheuchli;

And having had my senses gratified, I sleep peacefully.

Please share your apple thoughts and memories.