It can be difficult running a community orchard group...
Founding member and former trustee, Helen, shows the strain at an Apple Day event.
Deb takes a well-earned, erm break, from works building our bespoke composting toilet building...
Ever wondered where Nick Park got the idea for the animated short 'The Wrong Trousers'? We have our own theories.
In reality Wendy demonstrates the wearing of a vintage fruit picking bag at one of our events...
What's worse than having one volunteer up an apple tree?
Half a volunteer! - as demonstrated by Andy.
Not to be delayed by an electrical fault on our hired mini digger, Deb looks very satisfied, with her own Plan 'B', as very nice man from the hire company sets to work on repairs in the background...!
We asked children from the Downs School which apple they had just picked from the school orchard and got this confident answer.
These kids are just too clever. Honestly!
'Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree.'
'Summer snow of apple blossom, Running up from glade to glade.'
'An apple a day keeps anyone away, if you throw it hard enough.'
'An orchard is not a field. It's not a forest or a copse. It couldn't occur naturally; it's definitely cultivated. But an orchard doesn't override the natural order: it enhances it, dresses it up. It demonstrates that man and nature can - just occasionally - create something more beautiful and more fruitful than either could alone.'
'Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;'
'Money doesn't grow on trees, and if it did somebody else would own the orchard.'
'In an orchard there should be enough to eat, enough to lay up, enough to be stolen, and enough to rot on the ground.'
'Be like a tree in pursuit of your cause. Stand firm, grip hard, thrust upward. Bend to the winds of heaven. And learn tranquility.'
'Behold the apples’ rounded worlds:
juice-green of July rain,
the black polestar of flowers, the rind
mapped with its crimson stain.
The russet, crab and cottage red
burn to the sun’s hot brass,
then drop like sweat from every branch
and bubble in the grass.'
'Everybody's 12 years old in an apple orchard.'