A Magic Apple

A couple of years ago, Graham and I planted an Apple Tree. It was not the first Apple Tree I've planted...on every property I have lived upon, there was either a fully grown one, or a small sapling I'd just transplanted after the move.

But the small Tree we planted in the Cariboo is finding life difficult.


It was planted at the top of a bank. We dug a deep, wide hole, trying to pry all the Rocks out of the Soil in the immediate area, but not completely succeeding. And so, I knew I would have to Water it a little more often...Rocks don't hold the Water and there is a lot of run off down the bank.

It tried to bloom. Each time a blossom opened, however, it would Snow. Snow did not bother the Crabapple Tree, planted at the same time, but the little Apple Tree's blossoms would wither, turn brown and drop off.

It was cold for a long time, this past Spring. Snow happened fairly rarely, but with the cold, Bees and such were still hunkered down, still in hibernation.

Our little Tree tried over and over again to fruit...in fact, at one point I actually counted over six little Applets clinging to the branches. These would all eventually drop off.


Except for one.

This one is strongly attached to the Tree. This Apple is perfectly round, with a small dimple which collects Rain Water, making it look as if it has a small window.

Sometimes, one can even imagine that one could look inside through the window and see magic at work.

I dreamt about it the other day, although not expressly about only the Apple Tree. I was in an airport; there were long runways in front of me. My feeling was I would have to choose one. But how was I to know where each led?

I was becoming frustrated and anxious in my dream. Even as I understood that in this dream my choice of runway would have an impact on my life...I couldn't choose. It felt as if I was paralysed, physically and mentally.

The ends of the runways were obscured by smoke. Now, my dreaming of smoky runways was not so difficult to understand, since we have been in smoky conditions for a long time. It is only over the last couple of days that North Wind brought Storms, which put the smoke on the run.

I peered and I pondered. Which runway to choose...? And I knew without a doubt I would have to choose one, in this dream. But I really, really didn't want to do so.

In the misty, murky distance, a Tree appeared, half obscured by the grey tendrils of smoke. I watched it for a long while...was it my Apple Tree? And was it a sign given to me by the Apple Diva? Surely, in a dream where anything is possible, she would appear to give me advice.


Suddenly, I felt a hard, round object in my hand. It was the Applet...the only Apple on the Tree in my backyard. It was easily recognizable...I have stared at that small Apple on the Tree for months and know it well.


Don't you wish, during dreams, that you could take an interpretor along with you? Someone who could point out what is important and what is not in a dream? Most times, I can figure out what it is I am supposed to know, but sometimes...my mind seems too clouded to grasp the concept.


The Apple I held in my hand was ripe. It's scent was lovely...as strong as a box of just picked, perfectly ripened Apples. I wondered if I should eat it, or place it back on the Tree in the distance on the runway. But I knew if I walked on that runway, it would be the pathway I chose...for good and all. And I felt real apprehension at the thought.


Could I commit to one pathway? Could I even make a decision about whether or not to follow the runway to the Apple Tree?


Quite possibly,even in a dream, I would still be standing there at the beginning of all the runways if I hadn't heard a voice coming from the innocuous little Apple in my hand.

Take me home...she said. 


I wondered where home was...was it the Tree in the distance?


Yes...said the small voice...it's the home of Truth and Magic, and you know that.


I didn't know anything. I did not want to follow any of the runways...that much I did know.


But, with the Apple in hand, I find myself walking down the runway that led to the Tree. On my way, I discover the runway is no longer smooth. It becomes hilly, and there are many streams and obstacles to cross before I can reach the Tree, which never seems closer.


There is a change inside myself, as I traverse that long, long treacherous runway. I suddenly know, without a doubt, that I can do whatever it is I am to do. Inner confidence comes back, just as the dream scene begins to fade, with the Tree still in the far distance.


I wake up feeling the imprint of the little Apple in my hand.


Upon arising, I check my small Apple Tree. The Applet still hangs strongly on the branch, ripening day by day. It is a sturdy little Apple, surviving Hail and drought and heat and Wind and smoky Air.


I look upon it a little differently, now.


A magical Apple. One who knows the truth. And one which has a strong sense of...home.


Who knew?