Ah, fall, that time of year when heat waves are replaced with cool breezes that begin to tear leaves from their branches….summer flowering plants either die or begin their preparation for winter by slowing becoming dormant….lemonade to quench a parch throat is replaced by a mug of hot tea or better yet, mulled cider.

Ah, yes, fall. Perhaps one of my favorite seasons, it offers glimpses of hope as each week brings cooler temperatures and less blue skies….brings back memories from years gone by. I’m almost 70 now, and while many childhood memories have long faded away, there are those that remain, bringing a smile to my face.

I grew up in Saginaw–in the city–so visiting farmers markets or orchards was a delight. My mother enjoyed making apple pies so our trips to local orchards was a given every fall. We had our choice of several growers to choose from….if she wanted Northern Spies we usually found them at Turner’s Apple Orchard or Bintz’s Apple Mountain. The advantage of going to Bintz’s included watching them make cider in their mill…waiting for warm donuts to come out of the oven, enjoying both at an outside picnic table under cloudy skies. If mom was feeling especially generous, we even took a bag of donuts home along with a quart of cider.

By the time I became a young adult another orchard established their business in a nearby community which included their own cider mill and bakery. To this day, you can enjoy one of their many treats inside their “barn look café”, away from those cool breezes and little bees that seem to enjoy a sweet treat as much as us humans. This orchard–Bayne’s Apple Valley–is a thriving business and popular attraction for local families. For me, it holds one of my most precious memories–it was the last time I enjoyed cider and donuts with my dad.

In the last four years of life, my dad lived with dementia. We kids did our best to get him out for social interaction, breaking up his time living in memory care. As was our custom, my husband and I made the 70 mile trip every Sunday to spend time with him. In October one Sunday, we took him to Bayne’s. My brothers and their wives were with us and we joined the crowds of families waiting in line for our delicious treats. When seated, we chatted. We reminisced about all the years we had spent time together drinking cider and eating more than our fair share of donuts, hot off the rack. Our afternoon was bittersweet, as I realized this may be my last time celebrating fall’s bounty of apples and donut calories no one bothered to count. Dad, at this time of his life, was quiet. Words didn’t form easily anymore. Most communication came through the twinkle in his eyes and a smile that never seemed to wane, even on a bad day.

We talked about the number of pies mom probably baked over the years. Did he remember?

We joked about which donut was the best…the cinnamon sugar? or the plain one? the cider one? Did dad have a favorite?

Before we left Bayne’s that cool afternoon, I made a stop in the store where baskets of numerous apple varieties lined the walls….carefully choosing a few Northern Spies for a couple pies…selecting others for applesauce and lunches. Each bag of apples carried with it a memory from childhood that fills me with joy every fall season now as I recall those former family errands and time spent together that have become precious reminders of living through many seasons.

Soon, I’ll visit an orchard or farmers market for this year’s supply of apples. I’ll hope to visit an orchard that serves cider and donuts…and I’ll lift each one to my mouth…hoping for a twinkle in my eyes complimented by a gentle smile to quiet the moment, allowing my mind to linger for just a few minutes in the legacy a paper cup of cider and a sticky donut create for a little girl…grown up now…making her own pies…remembering her past and rejoicing in a future rooted in love…in change…no matter the season.