The apple draws the earth as much as the earth draws the apple. Grafts
were taken from the gravity park where genius found sanctuary from
lawlessness. One scion growing outside college gates gives a moment’s
foothold to a student dropping into his saucy night’s adventure, seizing an
apple as he drifts through the loving stair light of the lonely moon.
1st – The Apples of the West
The tor rises out of mist and marsh, the orchards hug high ground.
Ley lines point back into the kingdom’s heart, and outwards, westwards,
to Avalon. Wake from long slumbers and breakfast on pippins – rosy ones.
Gird yourself to battle against the sunset. Sink heroically into legend.
2nd – The Apple Undermined
Camouflaged, minuscule, the railroad worm feasts on the browning
apple, a time ship starved for its short flight to earth, where the pupa
overwinters. The fly mimics the foreparts of the four-eyed jumping spider.
Innocent above such pitiful subterfuge, the apple tree rides the clouds.
3rd – The Apple and the Bullfinch
White rumps defiantly bob and dart in their market. To consume a
bud, a plant chick, is to strangle hopeful industry at birth. The realism
of survival is anti-pastoral: bale twine on one bough, fertiliser bags on
another. Bravely they mate among the enemy – the true sprezzatura!
4th – The Apple Blossom Ultimatum
We trip on transgression, defying the settlement plan foisted on middle
age. It’s autumn, there’s no time to spare. Can we sneak our way into
ripeness, the fresh kind, with no trace of dissolution yet? One more
blossom time might be given to us. Kick the tree: make it suck more sap.
5th – The Apples Afloat
Splashing about and getting soaked, the apple fleet refusing to quit its
regatta on the waves, feels like a hopeless ritual invented a minute ago by
children. In the cider fields, where a surplus is fair game for any ancient
rigmarole, the real test for many is waiting to be plucked in marriage.
6th – The Emblematic Apple
The codebreaker’s cyanide is absorbed into the mythic miasma: Snow
White besmirched by persecution. Or is it that the bite conveys scale, a
mouth for comparison? The anagram of postlapsarian colours has a logic
instructive for the nursery. Green sits at the top, where the leaves are.
All six – The Five-pointed Apple
A matchmaker blacksmith of the Orne forges a blade of steel so fine he
could present a father with two perfectly fitting hemispheres, each with
its central pentagram: losel and damsel. This is the eloquence of steel and
flesh: observe the exact placement of pips and follow their runic lust.