Apples

I could say it briefly: we picked apples, Gold Rush and Fuji. The Arkansas Black weren't ready yet.

But if I did you'd miss something of the essence of the day:

You'd miss the excitement of wondering whether the car could master the mud puddle. You'd miss the silence and the sunshine. You'd miss the fish jumping in the pond. You'd miss row after row of cheery fruit trees. You'd miss the wasps and the butterflies. You'd miss the smiles of the children. You'd miss the sweetness of the apples.

I wouldn't want you to miss the apples.